Vader's Quest Chronicles
by FicWriter04
Summary: Former alcoholic Darth Vader searches for his son while dealing with an increasingly senile Palpatine. Complete.
1. Prologue

Title: Vader's Quest Chronicles

Summary: Darth Vader learns that he has a son and the search begins.

Chapter: Prologue

Rating: Will be M for language and possible coarse humor in later chapters.

Timeframe: Beginning between ROTS and ANH

Disclaimer: Star Wars is the property of George Lucas. No disrespect is intended with this story.

Notes: This is a strictly tongue-in-cheek version of Vader's life. It will loosely carry through the entire saga. Constructive criticism and comments are welcome.

* * *

There were no more tears. Her very soul had been wrung dry. Her aching heart was broken and would never heal. The kiss she should never have given him _had_ become a scar, not upon his heart but upon hers. He had taken a road where she could not follow, had done terrible things, embraced a destiny of evil. He was still a good man inside; why could he not see it? Would he never come to his senses? Never was a very long time; anything was possible, there was always hope. But she could not bear to watch and wait. He was gone from her life, and she could not live without him. Padmé Skywalker let go of her life as she knew it.

* * *

"Nooooo! I couldn't have! She was _alive! _I _felt _it!" He screamed his agony; the pain, the suffering, the anger, rage, and self-hate fueling his new power. He felt it grow and grow again. But he had failed. He could not live without her. And Anakin Skywalker let go of his life as he knew it. 

Darth Vader, Sith Lord, was born.


	2. One

Title: Vader's Quest Chronicles

Summary: Darth Vader learns that he has a son, and the search begins

Chapter 1

Timeframe: Beginning between ROTS and ANH

Disclaimer: Star Wars is the property of George Lucas. No disrespect is intended with this story.

* * *

The Galactic Empire was purportedly at peace. Very few pockets of resistance appeared to remain. With those that did, simple intimidation tended to convince compliance. With little need for his lightsaber skills, Darth Vader had gotten fat and out of shape. The 'Vader suit' served nicely to hide his increased girth, while the mask respirator disguised his asthmatic wheezing. 

There had been far too much feasting on the spoils of war -- luscious seafood from the water world of Ceruleanus, exotic fruits and vegetables, delicious delicacies from a thousand distant systems. The corpulent excuse for humanity whom he called 'Master' liked to eat and had commanded Vader to be his official taster. _And after all, _Vader reasoned, _if one were going to die from eating something that tasted good, one might _as _well eat enough to make it a worthwhile experience!_

While not into death sticks or hallucinogens, he had helped 'liberate' this _really_ great vintage wine from Gonzos IV. He opened another bottle from his dwindling supply and drank deeply.

The inevitable extra weight exacerbated his asthma; he'd begun to suffer from attacks of that after breathing too many of the noxious fumes during his ordeal on Mustafar -- left lying on the ground, he'd inhaled them at their most concentrated. Just the memory could bring on an attack. Feeling himself start to choke up, Vader attempted to forestall things with another few gulps from the bottle of wine.

Bionic prosthetics were all very well, but exercising _them_ didn't burn off all the extra food that he consumed. His midsection was becoming enormous -- he would have to order _another_ still larger suit of his black body armor; he ruefully surveyed the seven already in his closet, each one successively larger than the last. And the helmet was also getting uncomfortably tight. Why, even the Emperor noticed and had called him 'Fathead' and then gloried in Vader's squirming discomfort. Really, the man was becoming insufferable!

At least the face mask still fit! The filters did help the asthma somewhat. And although the respirator function made his voice sound strange, he sometimes secretly liked the mysterious effect, which could greatly enhance intimidation.

Attempts to use the Sith lightning -- which burned up an incredible amount of calories -- were an abject failure as it tended to short out his bionics. After several expensive replacements, his Master forbade his exercising that power. So now he couldn't count on that either. He would just have to cut down... Another generous swig of wine followed.

And therein lay Vader's problem. If he cut down too much, old Palpy would notice and decide that Vader knew something was bad about the food and... Well, he would just have to figure out a solution.

Though he wasn't so good at _that_, either, he recalled with regret. Trying to figure out how to juggle marriage and being a Jedi without getting into trouble had really been, he must admit, a spectacular failure. Just look where that business had gotten him -- no longer a Jedi and no wife, either! Self-pity drove him to have still another hearty swallow from the bottle of that _great_ Gonzan wine. He emptied the bottle.

Vader finally judged himself numb enough to endure yet another interminable evening at Palpatine's overwhelming board of fare, eating -- and drinking-- himself into oblivion. _Ugh! _he thought as he unsteadily stood. _I am really getting out _of _shape! What to do? What to do? _Disgusted with himself, Vader groaned at the evening's prospect and somewhat drunkenly went to perform his duties as official Imperial taster, dropping his empty bottle into the trash compactor as he passed.

* * *

"Vader, my friend, you're _drunk_!" 

"No, no," Vader denied, then, enunciating carefully, he added, "Just had a little wine to prepare my palate."

Tarkin rolled his eyes in disbelief. "Right. And this satellite is being built for exploration. Tell me another! Palpatine is sure to notice soon, Vader. This is the third night this week that you've shown up, well, unsteady on your feet. How can, you actually _taste_ anything when you are in this condition?"

Vader shrugged. "Doesn't matter -- couldn't taste poison anyway. As for sensing it, Old Palpy can do that far better than I can!" He gave a mirthless laugh. "I'll be all right, Tarkin. Soon as I get some food into me, I'll use the Force to clear my head. This will be another night of feasting and gluttony, washed down with too much potent wine. He'll soon be drunk himself!" And Vader seated himself at the Emperor's table, ready to begin.

Hours later, he retired to his quarters. Though he knew himself to be drunk, thanks to the Force, his head felt clear, so he considered his situation. Tarkin was right, Palpatine _had_ looked at him oddly tonight. He had to have known Vader was, yes, he admitted to himself, that he was intoxicated. Old Palpatine was always bragging how he could 'sense' things. Surely he'd sensed that blurred awareness in Vader tonight. Vader had to concede that the bottle of Gonzan wine before the feast was not a particularly wise decision, especially with the knowledge that Palpatine also liked his wine. And tonight's vintage had been a potent one. He relaxed his control, let the effects of the wine overcome his senses, and lapsed into unconsciousness.

* * *

Vader unwillingly stirred into consciousness. His comlink was chirping mercilessly, jarring the throb of his head with each chirp. Moving carefully, he crossed to the holopad and knelt. Oh! his head, that must have been a _really_ potent vintage last night! "Yes, my Master." 

Palpatine's image appeared and immediately began to berate Vader for his tardiness in answering the link. Vader agreed that he had been dilatory, then asked the reason this early transmission.

"I will be returning to Coruscant. I see no reason for you to accompany me at this time. Remain here and supervise construction.. And Lord Vader -- cut back on your consumption of alcohol!" His image winked out.

Vader rose. Uh-oh! Palpatine knew about the excess drinking. Well, it certainly wouldn't be necessary in Palpy's absence. No feasting meant he could cut back on _both_ food and drink. This could be a fresh beginning for him, get a head start on losing weight, getting fit. But did his head ever ache, maybe just a little bit...No! Vader stopped that thought at its inception. Using his powers, he cleared the ache in his head and went for a sorely needed session of lightsaber practice.

One of the few places he ever let himself miss Obi-Wan was at lightsaber practice. His droid sparring partner was programmed to match him in skill, but was so _predictable. _No human could even begin to match his skill, as no one had ever learned except the now extinct Jedi Order. And, of course, his Sith Master. Since Darth Sidious was also the corpulent Emperor, he might as well wish for the return of the Jedi -- never happen!

He reprogrammed the droid at a higher skill level and began sparring. Finding a great level of satisfaction in the exercise, he let the Force guide his movements, remembering long ago instructions to '_feel the Force.' _Abruptly he stopped, then had to avoid a final thrust from the droid's saber. Sidestepping that, he commanded the droid to power down and ended the session. He did not like where memories were taking him. If he followed that path, he'd soon be opening another bottle and breaking his resolve.

Amazed at how much time had actually passed while he practiced, Vader stopped in his quarters before going to inspect progress on the satellite. While there, he carefully avoided looking at the closet which housed his private wine cellar. He needed a clear head for what he intended to do once he had finished his official errands of the day.

Piloting was something he could lose himself in, the more skill needed the better. And a nearby asteroid field was just the place. Thoughts of the anticipated activity filled him with pleasure. He felt himself relax as he settled into his small Tie fighter and took off.

Hours later, he navigated among the last few asteroids and emerged unscathed from the field. Pride in personal accomplishment -- that was real intoxication -- and it didn't leave a hangover. This was pleasant, no chirping comlink, no distractions, just him, his ship, and open space. At that moment, the despised comlink chirped. _Curse it! Wonder what Palpy wants **now**_? He activated the mobile holopad and responded. "I await your bidding, Master."

Palpatine was merely issuing more last minute directives concerning the Death Star -- and _with such a name he claims that it's for **peaceful** purposes? _Vader allowed the idle thought to surface once Palpatine had signed off. However, his pleasure had been erased by contact with the Emperor. He sighed and returned to base.

After a light repast and a visit with Tarkin, Vader ended his evening. In his quarters, he prepared for meditation. He could do this. It was easy without Palpatine's continual demands upon him... Force give his the strength to continue once his Master returned... or commanded his attendance on Coruscant. But he was Darth Vader, Sith Lord, Powerful in the Force. He _could_ do it ... one day at a time. And Vader allowed himself to drift into the oblivion of sleep.

"You, Tarkin?' Vader was spending an evening in the Grand Moff's quarters, having been invited for a light supper and quiet conversation. "You were an alcoholic?"

Tarkin nodded. "Yes, my friend. Even as you, I felt service to our demanding superior required an anesthetic to dull my senses. One day I looked at myself and was not pleased. I realized that I had lost control and was on the road to the ruin of all I had worked for. I have never looked back. "

Vader could easily imagine abstemious Tarkin exercising such ironclad control over his impulses. He ate very little and drank less. How did he manage to do so without irritating Palpatine?

Tarkin laughed dryly. "Early on I informed the Chancellor -- which he then was -- that the med-droids had concluded that I was developing a severe allergy to many food products, and had to eliminate them from my diet. Naturally, the allergy never developed so the conclusion was that I had avoided a health problem that could sink my career." He shook his head at the memory. Not often could anyone deceive Palpatine.

Vader considered the possibilities of his own such deception. Did Tarkin have any suggestions? Tarkin did.

"If you can, keep the actual med-droids out of it -- Palpatine will check the records. You might suggest that you have noticed a great improvement in your asthma when you do not drink wine or eat certain foods. Your bionics are an expensive investment, my friend. Your continued health is a great priority to him, even more so than the parasitic pleasure he derives from your discomfort."

Vader nodded and then changed the subject.

* * *

Weeks and then months passed, and the Emperor remained on Coruscant. Vader's presence in the capital was not necessary. Periodic transmissions from Palpatine sent his apprentice on missions of intimidation. Occasionally, the merest threat of Vader's arrival cowed the planet into submission, and he did not even need to leave the Death Star. It was a peaceful interlude. 

Vader spent his days much as he pleased. After a daily inspection tour of progress, he was free to practice his lightsaber or fly his ship, maneuvering through the continually changing asteroid field until he felt he could do so without conscious volition. As the young Anakin Skywalker, he had been the best pilot in the Jedi Order. He flew on instinct, an unconscious use of something of the Force yet not of it either. If Vader let go and allowed his inner self to pilot, he was still the best in the Galaxy, But far too often, he could not. Out here among the asteroids, he let go and just flew, drawing enjoyment and peace from the activity.

Evenings were often spent with Tarkin. He followed his friend's example in dining -- small but tasty meals, mineral water for beverage; Vader had become quite a connoisseur of mineral water from far-flung planets.

His regimen was producing results. The fluid, twisting movements of lightsaber practice, often for hours at a time, were toning his midsection. Coupled with the smaller food intake, his steadily decreasing girth pleased Vader immensely. Already two of his larger suits of body armor had been dropped into the trash compactor, with the third soon to follow. Best of all, his asthma attacks did occur less frequently and with lessened severity.

Without constantly dancing attendance on old Palpy, the urge to imbibe lay dormant. But Vader had no illusions about the future. He would need every shred of his Sith powers to remain sober and not try to strangle the old pile of Bantha fodder!

Vader's private stock of Gonzan wine had long since been consigned to the trash compactor, something that took tremendous resolve on his part. The presence of Tarkin at the time helped, but Vader had personally dropped each of the remaining bottles into the chute. Then, with a brief nod of 1h,mks, Vader strode to the hangar level and ordered his fighter prepared for flight. He flew for hours, aimless, mindless, letting his subconscious take control.

Back on the Death Star, he sought his quarters. There he dropped into a sleep of sheer mental exhaustion -- exorcising demons was fatiguing.

* * *

Apparently; the Rebellion had merely gone underground and were surreptitiously building their forces along the Outer Rim. Rumors of the secret Rebel base reached Palpatine on Coruscant. 

Vader strode toward the Command Center of the Death Star. He _hated_ that comlink! He _hated_ Sidious! He hated everyone and everything about this existence! And now he suddenly wanted a drink! He _needed_ one! Just one, to dull his discontent and rage at Palpatine. Calling him an 'incompetent fathead' just because progress on this damned satellite was not proceeding at what _he_ deemed a suitable pace! What was he, Vader, supposed to do? Stand behind the construction droids with a whip? Vader chose a loose machinery housing and slammed it against the wall. It felt so very satisfying that he threw another, and then another, and another, ripping them loose from their moorings to do so. _Aaaah! That helped!_

He suddenly noticed that the storm troopers supervising the area were eyeing him warily. He nodded at them. "Carry on". And, temper appeased, he smiled mirthlessly to himself and continued toward the scheduled briefing.

After relaying the Emperor's orders -- move the Death Star closer to the suspected Rebel base, continue construction at a faster pace, and Vader was to bring his Star Destroyer, _The Executor, _to Coruscant to meet Palpatine and escort his Master back for a personal inspection of the nearly completed satellite -- Vader strode to Tarkin's side.

"A moment of your time, Tarkin?"

Tarkin regarded his friend quizzically. "Can it wait, Vader? As you know, preparing to move this galactic behemoth will be a lengthy --"

Vader interrupted impatiently. "No, it cannot! My Master commands my presence and I must go. But I want a drink! You know I do not find it easy to ask for assistance, but I do need it now! If I give in and take a drink, I will be totally inebriated long before I reach Coruscant ... and right back where I was six months ago! Do you have any suggestions?"

Tarkin gave him a tightlipped smile. "I used meditation to overcome the urges... gave my thoughts to the Powers that be. Use that antiquated religion that you cling to -- use the Force, Dark Side, Light Side, any side that helps. You claim to be powerful with the Force. What good is power if you don't use it? Call on that much-vaunted power, and let it guide you." He turned away. "Now excuse me, I must begin my preparations." He looked back over his shoulder. "And good luck, my friend." He began to quickly and efficiently issue orders to the command crew.

* * *

Aboard the _Executor _and enroute to Coruscant, Vader restlessly paced. His crew remained out of his way, fearful that his touchy temper would explode. Deck to deck, hangar bay to command center, up and down, around and around, he circumnavigated the Star Destroyer's interior. Finally, he retired to his quarters to rest, feeling that meditation might at least ease his tension somewhat. The urge to drink _something_ was so strong that he grabbed a mineral water at random and downed it without really tasting it. Suddenly the foul taste hit him. _What_--? 

He read the label. "Sulfurous effervescent medicinal waters, from Threa in the Solarianus system, good for asthma," _and other assorted ills, no doubt. _A harsh laugh burst from him. _Leave it to Tarkin, for he had to have been behind the presence here _of _the bottle _--- He looked into the cabinet -- _correction, **Bottles. **_He laughed even harder as he saw row after row of the vile liquid. The immediate urge to drink had, for the moment, disappeared. If he drank this stuff every time he wanted a drink, he'd soon either grow accustomed to the taste, or lose the desire to drink _anything_ at all! He suspected the latter. Vader began his meditation with a mental message of thanks to his friend.

* * *

Expertly navigating his speeder among the manmade canyons of Coruscant, Vader flew toward the ruins of the Jedi Temple. A spark of curiosity, coupled with a desire to briefly escape the Emperor's stifling presence, had prompted this trip. Palpy had been in fine form, demanding, condescending, egotistical-- his usual self, only more so. After a week of him, Vader had invented a lengthy errand and excused himself. At least the towering skyscrapers of the capital hampered a clear comlink signal if he kept to the lower levels and flew a twisting circuitous route -- an old Anakin maneuver. Vader let his mind wander. 

This had not been a pleasant few days -- _Oops! _He flipped the speeder sidewise, then upright again as he narrowly avoided an air taxi -- Apparently old Palpy had decided to dry out himself, as there had been no marathon wine-fests. Or perhaps he thought he was torturing Vader by not giving him a chance to drink copiously. _Now **that**_, mused Vader, _would be in keeping with his usual_ _tactics. PaIpy has no_ _idea that my_ _abstinence is by choice, not chance. Force be he remain in ignorance as_ _long as possible! _Not having to invent excuses meant not having to consume the vile sulfurous beverage that Tarkin had so generously provided. He must find a way to reciprocate the gesture ... perhaps a case of preserved loquats or dried smoked eels -- both heartily despised by Tarkin. The thought amused Vader; he would not, of course; his thanks would be appropriate to the intentions of his friend. If nothing else, he had learned proper manners from Obi-Wan, sorely trying that man's patience in the process.

_Obi-Wan... _Avoiding thoughts of him, Vader viciously swept into a steep downward maneuver requiring his full concentration in order to pull up before striking the pavement below. He leveled off and then repeated the movement in reverse, soaring sharply upward, spiraling dizzily again and again... death defying aeronautical acrobatics, suicidally dangerous in the crowded airways of Coruscant, but much beloved by Anakin as exhilarating. Abruptly, reason prevailed. He pulled up and assumed a slightly more circumspect flight pattern, slowing as he neared his goal.

He approached the massive mound of the ruined Jedi Temple. The towers and upper levels had collapsed. However, some lower portions remained intact, inhabited by vagrants, no doubt. _Did I really cause the destruction _of _all this? _He circled again, then once more, surveying what he had wrought. _I may not personally have done the structural devastation, _he thought, _but I began the process. I **am** responsible. Knowing what I do now, would I do it again? Perhaps. But regrets are futile and wallowing in memory accomplishes nothing of value. _A final circuit of the ruins and Vader swiftly ascended the airways to return to his quarters aboard _The Executor_.

* * *

Vader threw the comlink across the room. _Curse _the _man! What was his agenda now? Prepare to __embark for the Death Star immediately, but, oh yes, visit the med facility on_ _the surface for a full physical first. _True to his self-imposed regimen of actual physical activity, he bent to retrieve the comlink unit. Then, as ordered, Vader proceeded to the med facility. 

"Ah, Lord Vader. Come in; you are expected. The Emperor has ordered a Priority One exam for you. If you will follow me?" Vader followed the droid. Perhaps he could turn this to his own advantage, no matter what Palpy's agenda. He thought furiously. One thing about an exam from a droid -- small talk wasn't required, just answer the questions, do as requested, move this, bend that, breathe, cough. Finally back to the office for results.

"Lord Vader, you are still somewhat overweight, but you have made excellent improvement in that. And you are now in otherwise excellent health; much improved. Your bionics are also functioning well for the present. And the asthma? Breathing easier, I see. Whatever you have been doing, I recommend that you continue."

Vader explained his lightsaber drills and his lowered food intake, mentioning the mineral water, but glossing over his previous use of alcoholic intoxicants.

"Hmmmmmm, yes. Well, the Emperor will receive a full report and my recommendations for your continued improved health. The use of mineral water as a beverage is best for the present. It flushes out toxins from the system. Maintain the lowered caloric intake along with the exercise. Very good choices, Lord Vader. Good day." And with that, Vader was dismissed.

* * *

Palpatine was enraged. While Vader's improved health was welcome news, the med-droid's prescription for his continued improvement would deprive Sidious of a favorite form of entertainment -- the amusement he derived from the discomfort of his apprentice. Watching Lord Vader mimic sobriety had been infinitely amusing. He emitted an evil chuckle as he recalled some more memorable moments that Vader would no doubt wish to forget -- if he could even remember them at all! He would just have to devise some other way to torment his apprentice. The rage abated as he began to think. What would torment Lord Vader, produce enough anger, discomfort and hate to feed the insatiable parasitic appetite of the Sith Master? _Perhaps something from_ _Vader's past_ ... _aaahh, yes... _And Darth Sidious smiled. On his face, it was anything but pleasant.

* * *

"Yes, in your anger, you did kill your wife. But I have learned that there was a child, given to be raised in obscurity, unaware of his true parentage." As usual, the Emperor glossed over minor details that he deemed irrelevant. 

Shock at first kept him silent. '_**His** parentage'-- a son, then. **I **have a son? _The thought stunned Vader, then grew until it threatened to engulf him in emotions long suppressed. _A son! _"Where, Master?" Was his whereabouts known? How? And how long had Palpatine possessed this knowledge?

Hiding a smirk of triumph, Palpatine acknowledged that the information was a recent acquisition. "I recently felt a great disturbance, a presence new to the Force. Not yet developed, but with great, very great, potential for power, such power as could only come from a child of your fathering. He could perhaps become even more powerful than his father..." A sidelong glance at Vader showed him that he had struck fertile ground. "And if he could be turned to the Dark Side from the beginning..." He let the thought trail off, leaving Vader to follow where it led.

"Yes, Master. Father and son, we could serve you well." _Fat chance, you old tyrant. With two of __us we could easily overthrow you and rule the Galaxy in your place! Just let me find him... My __son... _And Vader left the room, new purpose to his life -- he had a son to locate!

Behind him, Sidious smiled. This would be extremely amusing. How could he best manipulate Vader? Make the game last before tiring of it? For he _would_ tire of it, he knew. Vader had lasted far longer than any other apprentice, but Sidious required continually escalating emotional upheaval to fuel the insatiable hunger of his Sith powers. Someday, even Vader would cease to provide enough fuel. The Sith Master intended to have a new, younger apprentice at hand when that occurred. And the son of Skywalker was ideal... The Emperor laughed in anticipation, a laugh born of pure evil. Already, he could feel the power of that moment. _Ah, yessss..._

At first euphoric with the news, Vader strode swiftly back to his quarters. There he allowed his niggling suspicions to surface. _Just **what**_ _was Palpatine _up _to? There had been rumors along the Outer Rim for years. Never before had old_ _Palpy given credence to any of them. And now suddenly he **senses** _a _new presence in the Force? Who was he trying to fool? **If** there were _a _child alive that had sprung from Darth Vader's loins, chances were that the Emperor had known about it from the day of that child's birth. And when in blazes could **that** have happened? There certainly hadn't been any hanky-panky since Mustafar! _Even if Vader had been so inclined, his present physical limitations precluded the possibility. And, while cloning produced superior troops, he did not condone its use for procreation. Vader shuddered and earnestly prayed that there wasn't an identical copy of his younger self running around the Galaxy -- he would not wish that on anyone. He smiled in retrospect. It was a wonder that Obi-Wan hadn't strangled him as a teenager. As Obi-Wan's Padawan, he had certainly been a handful, always on the verge of rebellion and dare deviltry. And then there was the tragic affair with Padmé...

Vader paused and pondered. Padmé...she had been pregnant, true, but he had killed both her and the babe -- hadn't he? Palpatine had said that was truth, but then Palpy had been known to lie -frequently. Vader resumed his pacing as he cast his mind reluctantly back to Mustafar. Carefully sifting down through the overlaid veneers of forgetfulness, Vader excavated to the crucial moment when... there! He saw again her eyes, pleading and fearful, saw her collapse... yes, she breathed still. He had heard her breathe, at first raggedly, then more evenly. The ever-faithful droids had both been there also...

And while the heartless Obi-Wan could leave Anakin to die, Vader felt certain that he would not have left Padmé and her unborn child helpless on that sulfurous hellhole of a planet. Yes, that child must be alive somewhere in the Galaxy. So what was Palpatine's game? Obviously, he had some nefarious scheme in mind, most likely one in which Vader would figure prominently. Why else dangle the possible existence of his progeny before him? A son!

Vader's head had begun to ache, building to an incessant throbbing that rivaled his worst hangover. _Curse the man! _Pinwheels of coruscating color flashed in synch with the throb, growing, glowing, brighter, brighter, obscuring visionVader reached his bunk before the migraine felled him. He hit the switch to dim the lights, closed his eyes and tried to make his mind relax. Using Jedi techniques, he attempted to balance the tension inside his head, to ease the throb, reducing it slowly, surely, until... At last, he slept.

Waking, he was at first disoriented. He normally did not sleep in darkness -- bright lights kept the nightmares at bay. Then he recalled the migraine... it had been the first in many years. _Why now? _he wondered. Cautiously rising, Vader smiled ruefully to himself. Despite his reputation as Scourge of the Galaxy, he certainly was a mess! Recovering alcoholic, asthmatic, overweight, and now his migraines were returning. Perhaps a chat with Tarkin would help him shed some light on the reasons. Meanwhile, some much needed lightsaber training would work off a few of these personal demons. He had neglected his practice while dancing attendance to the Emperor on Coruscant. Picking up his lightsaber, he left his quarters.


	3. Two

Title: Vader's Quest Chronicles

Summary: Darth Vader learns that he has a son, and the search begins

Chapter 2

Timeframe: Beginning between ROTS and ANH

Disclaimer: Star Wars is the property of George Lucas. No disrespect is intended with this story.

* * *

After touring the most recent construction areas with the Emperor, Tarkin and Lord Vader talked quietly as they returned to the Command Center. 

"You are looking well, my friend," commented Tarkin. "I was concerned for your continued wellbeing. You have taken no harm, I see."

"No," replied Vader. "Mercifully, I did not resort to imbibing. Your ...ah... so _thoughtful _gift served its intended purpose well. Tarkin, my friend, _where_ did you acquire that foul beverage? Just the _thought_ of it was enough to deter my urge to drink! Phtah!" He could still taste the sulfurous water in his memory.

Tarkin chuckled. "Whatever works. I received it as an attempted bribe from an official seeking Imperial construction contracts -- they consider it of premium value in his system. Needless to say, his ploy failed. I do have more..." Tarkin quirked an eyebrow at Vader, the ghost of a smile lurking at the corners of his mouth.

"No, thank you! What I have is _quite_ enough!" He was silent for a moment, then continued. "As you can see, I am still sober and, although murder occasionally seems a suitable solution, the source of my torment still lives. He has a new game. Apparently, I have a son and am encouraged to seek out this apocryphal being so that he may become Sith. At least the feasting seems a thing of the past, for which my digestive system is eternally thankful!" He patted his midsection. "Seriously, Tarkin, would you believe him? Could my son have survived?"

Tarkin pondered a moment. "A son? Not a daughter? Of course, there are rumors, and have been for years, of a child here or there who shows unusual abilities...uncanny perception, superbly exceptional piloting skills, the usual array of pretenders to Jedi talents. Most are easily dismissed..." He let his sentence trail off.

"_Most_?" Vader inquired. "Not all?"

"There was once talk -- a secret birthing, the mother died; the child adopted; somewhere along the Outer Rim, barely within the Galactic Empire, -- or out of it perhaps. Whispers that the mother was Senator Amidala."

"Droids' gossip, nothing more. Padmé was still with child when she went to her grave. Our _friend_ Palpatine informed me of that fact." Vader's tone was bitter. He reflected on the Emperor's obviously insincere assurances of sympathy at the time. _Why had Palpatine _so _intensely disliked Padmé at the end? But was there a chance that **their **child... _?

"My friend," Tarkin replied, "you know that droids do not gossip. They even avoid unnecessary conversation. Of course, there _was_ the Amidala Anomaly. The Senator's protocol droid _chattered _--incessantly!" Tarkin's distaste was evident.

Vader chuckled at the description. Yes, Threepio _had_ 'chattered incessantly'. He had constructed him to be a companion, someone to talk to, and to bear his mother company. The Amidala Anomaly -- a good way to refer to a most singular droid. _Whatever **had** become _of _Threepio? _he wondered idly. _Probably scrap somewhere by_ _now. _That idea caused a brief pang of sadness --in a way, Threepio was like his own first-born, for a part of himself had gone into the droid's creation. The thought of Threepio triggered something elusive deep within his memories, just beyond his grasp... He left it for later, and dismissed Threepio and his fate from his mind.

They had reached the Command Center. Vader's comlink chirped. Vader paused and turned to Tarkin. "I must answer this immediately... or my life will be hell for the rest of the day. Thank you, Tarkin. Good day." A brief inclination of his head and Vader strode rapidly away to answer his Master's summons.

_Like a **dog, **_he fumed. _Just call me Bark Vader ... yes, my Master ... no, Master ... as you wish. my Master...jumping through hoops like a trained dog. My life is not my own!_

Unbidden, Obi-Wan's voice echoed through his mind. _You'll always be _a _slave now..._

_Get out of my mind, Obi- Wan! Get out! **Get out! **GET OUT! _Vader's anger escalated as he neared the Emperor's chamber. Outside the doors, he attempted to compose himself, but was still seething as he entered. He knelt.

"What is thy bidding, my Master?"

"Arise, my young apprentice, and walk with me. I sense that you are disturbed. Have _I_ distressed you in some way?" His tone was oily and sly, daring Vader to reply in the affirmative.

"No, Master." Though still angry, Vader knew better than to arise to the bait; Hidden behind his mask, he clenched his jaw and tried to calm his surging anger and hatred.

Sensing both, the Emperor gave a satisfied smirk. "Then, Lord Vader, you may escort me to my shuttle. I am now assured that construction of this satellite remains on schedule, and am returning to Coruscant. I leave matters here in the capable hands of Governor Tarkin ... and yourself, of course. See that it continues so!"

Nearing the shuttle, he motioned his bodyguards to draw ahead, then turned to Vader. "I also sense that you wish to search for your son, Lord Vader."

"Yes, Master." _Might as well agree; it's his bidding, no doubt ... and it is, for once, actually my own desire_.

"As long as you do not neglect your duties to **me, **I will sanction your search, and will provide you with what information comes my way. Good luck, Lord Vader; I shall look forward to the day when I have another Skywalker for my apprentice." He turned, a black figure amongst the red-clad bodyguards, mounted the ramp, and disappeared into the shuttle. The ramp closed and the shuttle was away.

Staring after it, Vader felt his anger dissipate. Then he laughed. Old Palpy was devious, all right. But whatever his current game was, it was Vader's turn to play. If Palpatine wanted Vader to search for his son, he would do just that. Perhaps his Imperial master's strategy would soon become clear. His mind at work, Vader left the shuttle bay.

* * *

Alone in his quarters, Vader settled himself for a session of meditation. However, his mind refused to comply. Instead, he found his thoughts focusing on Threepio -- the Amidala Anomaly. Outwardly, Threepio had resembled any other protocol droid; inwardly, he had been something else entirely. As a boy, he had personally positioned every circuit, every single component within the droid. He had programmed him for conversation, as a companion. If any droid would gossip, Threepio was a prime suspect. But would he have known anything of real value? Where was he that day? On Mustafar? Vader thought he remembered seeing Threepio with Padmé -- she had seemed to take him everywhere with her during those last few weeks. 

As he struggled to isolate the memory, the dull ache in his head returned, an undercurrent threatening his concentration. Vader tried to ignore it and concentrated. Yes, there was Padmé accompanied by... Obi-Wan! No! Where were the droids? Obi-Wan was in the ship, descending the ramp, pity and sorrow emanating from his whole being. Fury at Padmé, at the perceived treachery by his beloved, boiling rage, rising, rising... The throb in his head worsened as, in memory, he heard himself scream "Liar!" saw his hand lifting, Padmé's protests cut off, the terror in her eyes..._where_ was Threepio? _Where_? Yes! There! And as the headache's effects overcame his concentration, he finally saw the droid, he _had_ been there! Vader surrendered to the migraine's power and sought relief in unconsciousness.

* * *

"Tarkin, I wish to initiate a records search -- droid disposition and ownership. Specifically, Protocol droids." Vader strode purposefully into Tarkin's office. 

"Certainly, my friend. What other parameters to the search? Where, dates, something more to narrow the field from mere millions?" Tarkin's tone was dry, but he moved to the computer terminal as he spoke.

"I am searching for the droid that you so aptly dubbed the Amidala Anomaly -- the only gossipy droid that I've ever known. He was _there_ that day, Tarkin --!"

"On Mustafar? Surely, Vader, his memory has been wiped since then! After all, in two decades, he must certainly have gone through several owners -- if he survives at all!" He looked quizzically at Vader. "However, his designation? Do you have it?"

"Of course, I do! I built him!" Tarkin cast an interested glance at Vader, but said nothing. "C3PO-SKYWALKER/AMIDALA" Vader paced nervously. When he spoke again, his voice was softer. "He was my...wedding gift...to her...the only personal possession I had to give."

Letting the records search program run its course, Tarkin turned to Vader with a question. "Wedding gift? But you were Jedi, and Jedi do not marry --"

Vader interrupted fiercely. "_This_ one did! For her, I defied the rules! And look where that has gotten me! She is gone, and I lead a dog's life, in thrall to the Emperor! In fact, a _dog_ has more freedom. A dog is _allowed_ attachment -- love, while I-I--" He broke off and hurled a chair at the wall; his breath rasped harshly.

"Easy, my friend. You'll provoke yourself into an asthma attack. _That_ I do not wish for you!" Tarkin turned to the computer, as it signaled 'search completed'. He frowned. "Strange, Vader. It shows a memory wipe, then nothing. If he still exists, his designation has been changed."

"I _must_ find that droid. Check _all_ C3PO/Protocol transfers from that date! I'll return later!" As Vader went out the doors, he kicked at a mouse droid -- **_Where_** _did these infernal creatures originate? _-- An hour or two of lightsaber drill should serve to calm him. It was hard to think of anything else while concentrating on techtUque, the artistry of coordinated motion. Despite appearances, lightsaber usage was far more than slice and slash. Vader touched his ever-present weapon in anticipation.

Behind him, Tarkin shook his head. He could recognize the probable futility of this search. One droid out of billions? And that droid's memory wiped before it disappeared? It was probably scrap by now, the parts cannibalized to create a new droid... or repair an older one... Thoughtfully, Tarkin entered additional parameters into the computer.

* * *

Relaxed and invigorated, Vader joined Tarkin for dinner. He radiated confidence. "Well, my friend, do we have results yet?" 

Tarkin allowed a small upturn of his lips, almost a smile. "Yes, I believe so. A most remote possibility, but... Records from the maintenance shop which performed the memory wipe show purchase of another protocol droid, similar model, also a C3PO unit. C3PO-SKYWALKER/AMIDALA never left the shop. However--" and Tarkin's smile widened, "C3PO-ORGANA/ORGANA was purchased by Senator Bail Organa as a gift to his wife upon the adoption of their infant daughter. That droid is now known as C3PO-ORGANA/ ANTILLES and has had its memory wiped at least once more. Captain Antilles is a Star pilot in service to the Organa family, specifically to Princess Leia Organa..."

Vader puzzled the possibilities of the information for a moment. "So you believe this unit is _my_ droid? How?"

A ripple of impatience ran through Tarkin. _Could Vader really not see the scheme? It was so __crystal clear, so devious... but so very simple. _"The droids appeared identical. A memory wipe, a designation plate switched, and your unit leaves as the Organa unit. The original Organa unit remains and becomes parts and scrap. Simple, yet ingenuous."

Vader thought it over; he could see the scheme now that Tarkin had laid it out for him. Yes, he could imagine such a plot being hatched by Obi-Wan, but did Bail Organa know of it? How would it have profited _him_? And where was his son? Obviously not the Organa child -- no way a boy could be disguised as a girl for twenty years! Particularly one raised in the very public eye as a princess. A fleeting vision of a young Anakin, dressed in female clothing and attempting to behave in a graceful and feminine manner caused him to stifle a laugh.

"No, my friend, I can't see how this would help _my _search. If this droid is Padmé's protocol droid, two or more memory wipes have totally erased any usable information that he may have held. How do you suppose that Bail Organa figured into the scheme? I can perceive of no gain for him -- he buys a droid, he takes one home" True, he _had_ been Padmé's closest friend and ally within the SenateVader was startled to feel a small twinge of jealousy cross his mind. Strange, after all these years...

Somewhat impatiently, Tarkin answered him. "The _child_. Vader, the _child_! He helped to hide the child! Payment for services rendered. I theorize that he himself never actually paid for his droid and that his daughter--"

With a laugh, Vader interrupted. "No, no, my friend, Palpy assures me that I have a _son_. No way that Princess Leia is a boy -- I've seen her -- pushy and arrogant, but definitely female. My son is elsewhere."

Reluctantly, Tarkin conceded the point, the scheme had been so beautiful in its deviousness, but only if the child were a daughter. The search would have to follow another direction. Though this one had seemed to hold such promise.

Later, finding himself alone, Vader mused to himself. _Why was Tarkin so set on the idea of a daughter? Was he looking for a wife at his age? Friends or not, he would never consent to Tarkin's marrying any daughter of his! But, since there **was** no daughter, it really didn't matter, did it? _Still, Tarkin's certainty that it _could_ be a daughter puzzled Vader. _What Galactic gossip had he heard to warrant such an idea? _

Vader laughed at the absurd notion. Old Palpy would have mentioned a daughter, had there been a girl child. But he had clearly said 'son' when he had given Vader leave to search. So Vader would search for his son, playing Palpatine's latest game. The rules would surely change on the Emperor's slightest whim, as had ever been his habit. But Vader was accustomed to that. In what direction should he next turn his attention? The Outer Rim, yes, but that encompassed uncountable obscure systems. How to narrow the search? Meantime, there was a Rebellion to quell. Perhaps he could use one to aid in the other. He would use whatever came to hand. The ever-present comlink recalled him to his duties. His Master called. Snarling to himself, Vader obeyed.

* * *

Imperial spies kept Palpatine informed of Vader's abortive efforts. Mildly amusing; he had himself once suspected Senator Organa of assisting to spirit the child away into obscurity, but no real connection was ever found. Bail Organa was a good Senator, a bit recalcitrant but loyal in the long run. Lately, though, Alderaan was showing definite signs of dissent --influence of the Princess, no doubt. Although she had followed her father into the Imperial Senate, she did not entirely follow his political philosophies. The Emperor resolved to have Bail Organa's daughter watched more closely -- she reminded him entirely too much of a certain willful young Senator from Naboo. 

Palpatine sensed Vader's frustrations as he sent the apprentice on increasingly frequent missions to search out the principal Rebel base. Poor Vader, always snapping at the Rebel's heels, he deserved a treat... Perhaps it was time to throw him a bone... The not entirely unintentional comparison of his apprentice to a dog sent Sidious into paroxysms of choking laughter.

* * *

Darth Vader was becoming impatient. The fabled Sith patience was not his way, never hadbeen This search for his son was going nowhere. He had followed so many abortive clues... If he had fathered even _half_ of those children, he would have had to have done nothing else during the Clone War! And fully half of the rest were species incompatible with human procreation. No wonder Sidious had ignored them. A few showed definite Force potential, although without training, they would never be of any threat to the Empire. And there was no one left to train them. Or was there? Obi-Wan! Surely he was long-since dead. But, if not, could he even now be secretly training a new Jedi force? The thought crept deep into Vader's mind for later examination. 

Vader entered his shuttle and lifted off for another useless foray into suspected Rebel territory. _This was getting boring. A few drinks to dull the sense of futility -- **no**! It has been so long now, **I can't! **So many failures in my life, this is one personal war that I **am** winning! _Anyway, that vile sulfurous water was the only thing besides regular mineral water that he kept available to himself. And food -- in truth, he no longer really noticed what he ate. Vader brightened. _Make that **two** personal battles! _He'd never fit into that smallest suit of body armor, but all the other 'fat suits' had been long since consigned to the trash compactor and were now part of a hunk of garbage jettisoned somewhere in the far reaches of the Galaxy. He admired the slimmer image of himself reflected in a polished surface. _Hmmm. I **am**_ _an impressive image, aren't I? Not bad for my age. Not fat and out of shape at all! My son and I will look splendid together when we rule the Empire!

* * *

_

Over the next few days, thoughts of Obi-Wan continued to pervade his mind. Why? Vader tried to banish thoughts of his old Jedi Master, but was only marginally successful. He did not desire memories of the man, not _these_ memories -- they made his head hurt. Anyway, he knew what must have happened -- Obi-Wan, Padmé, and the droids had all flown away together and left him alone and dying on Mustafar for the Emperor to find. Was there something else? He did _not_ want to call up the deeply buried memories; perhaps that _would_ be the only way...but not yet, not yet.

Lightsaber drills were no longer quite so pleasurable; he continued to hear Obi-Wan's voice in his mind -- _destroy the Sith, not join them _... _failed you, Anakin... I'm so sorry... get the feeling that you'll be the death _of _me..._

_If I ever see you again, Obi-Wan, I most assuredly will be the death of you! _Savagely he slashed and thrust, pledging revenge on this friend and mentor who had, at the end, become his enemy, left him maimed and dying on Mustafar...

_You were my brother, Anakin I failed you; I failed you..._

Slash, parry, thrust, turn. No leaps, not any longer -- bionic legs were not designed for the acrobatics of really first rate proficiency. He had learned to compensate, however, designing a new technical form of lightsaber usage. Momentarily he wished he could demonstrate for Master Yoda, seek that accomplished swordsman's opinion. But Yoda was, like all the other Jedi, gone forever, though an echo of his voice also passed through Vader's mind -- _Feel the Force you must; guide your hand it will _--. Savagely, Vader slashed at his droid opponent, disabling it and sending its saber flying. He switched off his own weapon and called maintenance to repair the droid.

With mixed emotions -- feeling just a little foolish for venting his fury on the hapless droid, yet with a sense of savage satisfaction -- Vader returned to duty, It was nearly time for Palpy's now daily intrusion, usually with no other apparent purpose than to keep Vader awaiting his summons.

As Vader strode through the corridor, he reflected on his situation. He felt a rebellion beginning to build within himself, could almost feel sympathy for the reasons behind the larger Galactic Rebellion. They both had an opponent in common -- the Emperor. However, unlike the Rebels he sought, Vader still needed him -- unconsciously repeating his own words to Master Windu those many years ago -_- I **need **him, he has the information to aid my search. And when my search is successful and I find my son, I will rise up and destroy him. I will play his games, allow him to humiliate me, to insult me, to keep me a slave to his whims. And then, when **his** usefulness to **me** is at an end --pfft! he's gone! _And Vader mentally drew an imaginary lightsaber across Palpatine's throat in a gesture of ultimate final rebellion. He smiled to himself and was startled to feel a pleasurable surge of hie; powers as he contemplated violent vengeance upon his tormentor. It felt _good_! Euphoric! Intoxicating! _This_ was what he had needed -- he wanted more!

The comlink recalled him to his senses. Dutifully, he responded. "Yeah, whaddaya want,--er- Yes, Master, what is your bidding?" Vader hastily curbed his unruly tongue, as an expression of wary suspicion crossed the face of Darth Sidious.

"Lord Vader," he snapped, "are you intoxicated again?" Almost, there was a note of hope in the voice.

_Well, I'll be_, thought Vader, _he's hoping that I am. Tough luck, old boy, not this time, not ever again. I have found a new source of pleasure. However _-- "No, Master. I must be over tired."

"Well, get more rest!" Sidious masked his own momentary lapse. "There is a definite disturbance in the Force near your position. What is in that sector?"

_Was probably me, Palpy, but let me think. _"I'm along the Rim, near Tatooine. Not really much else out here, Master." Vader studied the star map. Tatooine -- ugh. He _never_ wanted to see that planet again -- sand _everywhere_! Next to molten lava, sand ran a close second as his most intensely disliked natural substance. It got into everything -- eyes, nose, mouth, under one's clothing, into boots --. He suddenly became aware that the Emperor was speaking again.

"--unaccountable small frequent surges in the Force, somewhere in your sector. Check it out Lord Vader, and report your findings to me. I expect results!" His image disappeared.

_Whew! _thought Vader. _I have absolutely **no **idea what he said just before that. Probably wants a report on these disturbances in the Force. From Tatooine? I am **not **setting foot on that Force forsaken desert ever again! I'll send some men down to investigate. They know what to look for by now -- we've done it often enough. I will pursue some other lead, one that does **not **involve my personally setting foot on Tatooine. _

What that lead would be, he hadn't a clue.


	4. Three

Title: Vader's Quest Chronicles

Summary: Darth Vader learns that he has a son and the search begins.

Timeframe: Beginning between ROTS and ANH

Disclaimer: Star Wars is the property of George Lucas. No disrespect is intended with this story.

Notes: Feedback is greatly appreciated.

* * *

"Nothing, not a cursed thing, Tarkin! My men searched out and followed up on every rumor, every story. Tatooine is as barren and desolate as it ever was. Hutts, Jawas, and Tuskens, a handful of humans, a hermit or two, assorted lawless aliens seeking to avoid authority... Nothing to warrant further attention. Pod racing is no longer the gamblers' delight, but the local youths race their speeders and pot shot the womp-rats; one boy is rumored to be pretty accurate at hitting them, nothing spectacularly outstanding. It was a total waste of our time!" Vader paused a moment, then continued, restlessly pacing as he spoke. "Old Palpy must be slipping -- the only use of the Force in this sector is by _me!_ And I was sure he could sense that! What was the reasoning behind this abortive exercise?" Vader at last ceased speaking, but continued his pacing. 

Tarkin had remained silent, watching as Vader paced, listening patiently to his diatribe. Now he spoke. "You are certain that your men were thorough? Yes, of course you are." He waved away Vader's unvoiced protest. "And you are probably right, it was your own powers that he sensed. However, it's not like Palpatine to be mistaken. Do not underestimate him, my friend; others who did have not lived to regret their mistaken beliefs. I always presume that he is correct -- I find it is safer that way." He uttered a harsh bark of humorless laughter. "At least, I am still alive and in a position of some importance! Now Vader, cease this infernal pacing and come sit before I become vertiginous from watching you."

Vader sat, but could not remain still for long. He repeatedly clenched his hands, he tapped his fingers on the table, a hundred small movements, constant motion, a display of restless energy unusual even for him. "I feel I have missed something, Tarkin. Some small clue that Palpatine tossed my way, something I failed to recognize as important. I have reexamined every word that man has said to me lately, and I don't see how..." He paused, then rose and resumed pacing.

Tarkin closed his eyes, rested his face against his hands and shook his head in disbelief. Vader continued to reiterate. his frustrations escalating until, suddenly, one after another in rapid succession, all of the bottles of mineral water on the table exploded, sending water and shards of glass everywhere.

Dodging the resultant mess, a suddenly sodden Tarkin at last lost his own temper. "_Enough Vader!_ This is as useless as you claim your mission to have been. Now calm yourself and call someone to clean up this mess! _I_ am going to retire!" He stalked angrily from the room.

Vader ruefully surveyed the damage. Now that he had vented his temper, he felt better, but he had managed to irritate his only friend. A peace gesture was clearly in order. But first to get the room cleaned up.

He idly watched the janitorial droid carefully remove the widely scattered slivers of glass, then mop the floor and wipe down the table.

"Is there anything else, sir." The droid paused at the door way. "If not, I will return to my other duties now."

Vader absently dismissed him, his mind on choosing a suitable apology to Tarkin. A final glance around and he followed the droid from the room. One of the seemingly ever-present mouse droids scurried across the deserted corridor. _Infernal creatures,_ thought Vader. _Like sand, they get everywhere! If I didn't know better, I'd think they were spies for Old Palpy..._ He stopped and gazed after this one. _Could it be?_ Then he smiled at his own foolishness and sought his own quarters.

* * *

The Emperor's holographic image wavered slightly; reception was erratic; interference from the flaring sun of a nearby system, no doubt. Vader's bionic knees creaked this morning -- they assuredly needed maintenance. If only old Palpy would get to the point; he'd been kneeling here _forever_ and the man _still_ maundered on. Hidden by the face mask, Vader yawned. _Get to the point, curse it!_

"And so, Lord Vader, you are to grbhm grbl --" The hazy reception garbled Palpatine's words into gibberish, then failed altogether. The image disappeared. Thankfully rising from his position, Vader knew he'd received only a brief reprieve. He would have to find a position with better reception and reestablish contact. In the meantime, he planned to join Tarkin for breakfast and apologize for his foul temper on the previous evening.

He found Tarkin consuming his only apparent vice -- a large cup of the strong caffeine laced beverage that he favored each morning. Above the rim of his cup, Tarkin warily regarded Vader -- a bath of the hot liquid would be infinitely more uncomfortable than last night's shower of mineral water.

"Be at ease, my friend. My most abject apologies. My temper is restored this morning, and bed reception has freed me temporarily from Palpatine's beck and call. I'll have to correct the situation before he has an apoplectic fit, but first, I intend to enjoy my morning's repast in peace."

Tarkin visibly relaxed and resumed eating as Vader selected his own food. Breakfast had become his chief meal of the day, so he usually indulged and ate heartily. Today was no exception. His plate well-filled, he sat across from Tarkin and began to eat.

Tarkin swallowed a final bite and pushed away his own plate. Looking up, Vader noticed a cut above his friend's eyes. "Is that --?"

Wincing slightly, Tarkin nodded.

"I am truly so sorry! Sometimes I just cannot contain it any longer, and I have to vent... I didn't think. Glass usually makes the _most_ satisfying... Do forgive me, my friend! What can I do to make up for this?" Words tumbled from him in a rush.

Tarkin motioned Vader to silence and finally spoke. "All right, all right; apology accepted. Just eat and then find out what Palpatine wanted. He will not wait long; his supposed Sith patience grows shorter until it begins to resemble that of an ordinary human." He smiled at his own feeble joke, and continued to make desultory conversation while he sipped from his cup and watched Vader eat. _Where does he put it all?_ he wondered, although he knew his friend would eat very little throughout the day. Long gone were the continual eating orgies and drinking binges. The formerly fat Sith lord was now in enviably excellent physical condition. Vader seemed so in control there; if only he would curb that explosive temper!

* * *

Vader chose his Tie fighter as the fastest route to better reception for his Master's message. Besides, he wouldn't have to kneel. That continual act of obeisance was, like Palpatine, getting really old. He had _never_ had to kneel before the Jedi Council, a simple respectful attitude had been sufficient. And, Force knew, he had respected most of them far more than this self-inflated old tyrant whom he now called Master. Someday things would change, and _then_...! He felt a small rush as the thought triggered a surge of power within him. _Oops! Palpy is going to sense that_. However, he activated the holoprojector. 

"I await your bidding, Master."

Palpatine's image appeared -- he was obviously angry with Vader -- no surprise there; he _hated_ to be kept waiting, his minions for him, not the reverse. "Well, it is about time, Lord Vader! As my apprentice, you are to remain at my disposal, whether I --" He continued on in this vein for several minutes, while Vader waited and let his mind wander.

_Curse it, Master, come to the point. Despite what you seem to think, I haven't all day to hover here in space, waiting for you to run down._ He finally threw caution aside and interrupted the verbal torrent.

"Yes, Master, I apologize. However, the reception was poor on the Death Star. So I am now in a Tie fighter with _limited_," and he stressed the word, "holo capability. Just _what_ is thy bidding?"

:Oh. I am dissatisfied with your report on Tatooine. It is _not_ your powers that I sense. Someone in your sector is drawing erratically on the Force, an untrained talent. And rumors support that..."

Vader interrupted. "Master, those rumors seem to have originated with my own pod racing a generation ago! On such a backwater planet, rumors are long-lived. But _why_ would my son be on Tatooine? There can certainly be nothing there for me any longer."

Palpatine appeared only slightly appeased. "If, Lord Vader, I find that you are withholding information...! Continue to monitor the sector. And have Tarkin move the Death Star closer to Alderaan -- there seems to be an increase in Rebel activity in that sector. Do not fail me again!"

Vader stared at the empty holopad. _No, failure was never an option with him, was it? Oh well, guess it's time to follow up on a few more of these ridiculous rumors._ And Vader turned his Tie fighter back to the Death Star.

* * *

Relaxing in his quarters, Vader was studying an advertisement. '_Integrated bionic prosthetics,'_ Vader read, '_encased in Realskin, a synthetic covering which is nearly indistinguishable from real human skin.'_ These sounded _good_! He tried to keep abreast of all advances in human prosthetic development, ever in search of their looking and functioning more like his original limbs. While what he had now were pretty good, far removed from that first mechanical hand, he wanted..._more_. Of course, wanting more is how he ultimately ended up needing the prosthetics in the first place, but that was beside the point. Now he just wanted to be all the Sith he _could_ be.

* * *

If he _never_ had to track down another child with rumored Jedi talents, it would be too soon. Most of them were far too young; a few were the right approximate age, but were the wrong species or sex -- or both! The only positive aspect that Vader could see was that he was eliminating worlds from Palpy's list of those suspected of harboring the Rebel base. Vader sighed as he piloted his Tie fighter into the shuttle bay of the Star Destroyer. He was getting so very tired of the apparent futility of his search.

The last fw days had been particularly long and trying and he wanted a shower and clean clothes, his dinner and sleep...preferably in that order, but he would take them in any order he could get them. This last planet had been hot, wet, windy, and muddy -- it was their rainy season, but that only appeared to differ from the dry season by the number of showers in any given day. Even through his respirator filters, he could smell the moldy, mildewy tropical stench of the place. To top it off, the child was not only far too young -- by about fifteen years -- but the wrong species and a female!

Galactic Standard was not a commonly used language on the planet, either, making matters even more difficult; luckily, the Hutts had a presence there, so his knowledge of Huttese helped -- though he was sorely rusty in its use. Consolation for his frustrations came with the knowledge that the Hutts were no more friendly to Rebel than to Empire and would not have sanctioned Rebel bases on any planet where they had a controlling influence.

Leaving his fighter in the care of his men and the droids, he wearily headed for his quarters. By the Force, he was tired! Maybe a short nap before a shower and dinner... _No_, he conceded, as his movements caused a whiff of residual tropical miasma to reach his olfactory senses, _make that a shower first... and then this cloak and everything but my helmet and respirator are going into the garbage chute. They will **never** be rid of this stench! And the respirator will need fresh filters. Force! How **did** they stand it on that planet? _Even his sulfurous Thraean mineral water smelled wonderful compared to that place. He could _taste_ the stench! How could he _ever_ be rid of that horrible taste? _There's no use my wishing for a drink, nothing's available except... Oh well, sulfur taste is better than rot, mold and mildew. Bottom's up!_ He opened a bottle of the Thraean mineral water and drank it down, following it with regular mineral water. Somewhat refreshed, he stepped into the shower.

With the hot, stinging spray of the shower playing on his head and down his back, Vader began to revive. He _liked_ feeling clean! He enjoyed the luxury of hot water. Deeply inhaling the resultant steamy air, he felt his airways expand and allow unrestricted air flow. He closed his eyes, emptied his mind, and just let the moment take him.

At last, he reluctantly forced himself to return to reality and completed his ablutions. Suddenly conscious of a sharp sense of hunger -- breakfast had been scant and many hours before, and he hadn't eaten since -- he went in search of food. Stopping to instruct a droid on disposal of his clothes, (for there was no way he would touch thema gain) he reflected on his own actions.

Back in his Jedi days, things had at times gotten just a bit, well, _ripe_. Out along the Outer Rim during the Clone War, bathing facilities were scarce, laundry a luxury, and the multiple layers of Jedi attire could absorb an _incredible_ amount of sweaty body odor. He had learned to ignore it while necessary, but his first actions upon return to civilization had usually featured copious amounts of soap and water. Obi-Wan had laughed, but he also had tended to bathe immediately upon their return from any lengthy mission. Though burning his clothes had seemed an extreme solution, it was occasionally a tempting choice over mere laundering. However, Jedi wardrobes were not that extensive and laundering the offending garment usually had to suffice. But now -- he was Darth Vader, Sith Lord, and able to command a new wardrobe whenever necessary -- like _now_!

He watched as the droid dropped the discarded garments into the garbage chute. Vader smiled to himself and turned to continue his quest for dinner.

Later, replete with a substantial meal, Vader at last retired. With bright lights to keep the nightmares away, he dropped into a deep and dreamless sleep, secure in the knowledge that his crew could certainly get them back to the Death Star without incident.


	5. Four

Title: Vader's Quest Chronicles

Summary: Darth Vader learns that he has a son and the search begins

Disclaimer: Star Wars is the property of George Lucas. No disrespect is intended with this story.

* * *

_This **had** to be the absolutely **strangest **rumor of all,_ reflected Vader. -- His wife was alive and well and resided with their child on this isolated Outer Rim planet. Although Palpatine often reminded him that his wife had indeed long since committed her essence to the Force, he had _suggested _that Vader just might double check the validity of the rumor. And a suggestion from his Master was as good as an order -- Vader should go or else. So Vader went. However, if Padme were really dead, why did Palpy seem a little worried? Strange... 

Assessed from the air, Berengaria was a restful green world with lakes and trees and stirred in him long-buried memories of Naboo. A faintly queasy feeling grew inside him, and he realized with surprise that he almost hoped that _this_ rumor was truth. Impossible, he knew, but the faint hope persisted as the shuttle settled gently to the landing pad. _Well, here goes nothing, _thought Vader and left the ship accompanied by a few of his troopers.

The woman _was_ brunette; she was also fat and unkempt. In no way would his slim, elegant, beautiful wife have ever become this filthy slattern, no matter the circumstances. The woman was originally from Naboo; he had to give the rumor credence for that much validity. And she did have a child -- several of them, in fact, all dirty, barefoot, and as uncomprehendingly dense as their mother, who stared at Vader and answered his questions in an unintelligible mumble.

She was far younger than she appeared -- her life had apparently been hard enough to prematurely age her. No father in sight; inquiry brought a shrug for an answer -- she either didn't know, didn't care, or both. Relieved, yet disappointed, Vader abruptly turned and, motioning his escort to follow, he strode swiftly away. He suddenly couldn't wait to leave this planet.

As the world disappeared from his viewscreen, Vader pondered his feelings. This search was evoking too many memories. And memories brought the nightmares. No longer prophetic, they just rehashed the past. He knew that, although he rarely remembered specifics upon waking.

He knew with certainty however, that the next dream would involve his wife, and Mustafar, and Obi-Wan Kenobi. He would keep the lights on at night and delay sleep as long as possible, but the dreams would come, and he would waken, heart pounding, and tears on his face, and with a feeling of utter helplessness and despair...and failure. Whatever else happened in the dreams, there was always that sense of failure upon awakening. Sometimes it seemed he was no longer just Darth Vader, but that he had also become Anakin Skywalker again.

Vader uttered a mocking laugh. Maybe he should now be known as 'Darth Skywalker' or maybe 'Anakin Vader'? He could just picture Sidious' reaction to such a request --laughter, insane, cackling paroxysms of laughter until he coughed and choked. _Hmm! if he choked he would be __vulnerable..._And Vader let his mind fantasize on how he could relieve his Sith Master of life. It was a welcome distraction to occupy the long flight back to the Death Star.

Later, he discussed his trip with Tarkin, although not mentioning his feelings of hope. "In a way, Tarkin, I can understand how such a rumor began. A strange young woman of Naboo, brunette, attractive (which she probably was at the time) arrives with a child and takes up residence as Amé Dahlá...and her name actually is Amé, but the Dahlá was one of convenience. Her appearance and the similarity to 'Amidala' causes speculation...which she did nothing to dispel."

Tarkin smiled. "Of course not. It probably helped her...uh..._business. _Didn't you say she had several children?"

Vader answered affirmatively. "Oh, yes, and they were all as filthy as she was! How could any man...?" He let the distasteful thought die.

A sharp bark of laughter escaped Tarkin. "Easily, my friend, if he wanted to prove he was better in bed than the legendary Anakin Skywalker."

Vader looked askance, and Tarkin continued. "Yes, my friend, even then the friendship between the beautiful Senator from Naboo and her faithful Jedi protector was common knowledge and the exact relationship speculated upon."

Vader suppressed an explosive gesture. "Force curse it! Is _nothing_ sacred in this Galaxy?"

Tarkin shook his head. "Apparently not, Vader, apparently not." After a moment, he continued. "Your visit will no doubt have added greatly to this woman's notoriety. No doubt she'll claim that her next child was fathered by the infamous Scourge of the Galaxy, Darth Vader. You, my friend, have secured her future!" He dissolved into helpless laughter.

Vader was startled. "You don't mean...? But I didn't.. I _couldn't! _We weren't alone -- my men were there!"

Tarkin just laughed harder. After a moment of further incredulous speculation, Vader did likewise. "And wait," he gasped, "until Palpy hears _that_ rumor! It will be priceless!"

* * *

The Emperor regarded his informant with distaste. "Do you expect me to _believe_ this tale? Some woman is claiming that Lord Vader fathered her child? You must be joking... and I am _not_ amused!" He dismissed the man with a wave of his hand 

Knowing it useless to protest the Emperor's assessment, the man left. He was just reporting, as instructed, on rumors centered on Lord Vader and/or his possible children. He did not joke where his duty was concerned, and did not have to put up with such impugning of his character. He vowed to investigate what the Rebels would pay for this information -- surely, it would be of interest to them, also. He was so absorbed that he unfortunately failed to notice that he had been followed by one of Palpatine's personal staff.

Palpatine began to slowly pace, leaving his attendants to remain nearby and wondering at the unaccustomed exercise by their normally indolent employer.

_What, _he mused_, has Vader done **now**? Surely there is no truth here; there could not be, Vader couldn't now, or could he? Of course I do remember **telling** the boy that Mustafar had __destroyed much of him, including...But he has had a lot of medical treatments since then... __Surely they were all for bionic replacements, a bit of plastic surgery to face and chest -- pretty useless, that, but keeping the boy biddable and happy seemed more important, at the time. __Nothing more. _Palpatine furrowed his brow in concentration. No, there had been nothing that he could recall. Did the woman carry a clone child? No, Vader would never sanction that; he very vocally abhorred cloning for purely reproductive purposes -- at least he _claimed_ that he did...

The Emperor made a sudden decision to command Vader's presence for a confrontation. He returned to his seat and began to plan his questions to his apprentice.

* * *

_How_ in blazes had Palpy gotten that kind of rumor -- and so soon? Vader had just returned last week from that place and his unproductive interview with Amé Dahlá. Rumors could travel at light speed, though Vader could have sworn it would have taken longer for one of this magnitude to develop and reach Coruscant. 

Tarkin was at first equally clueless. "I do not know, Vader. Unless..." He snapped his fingers. "One of the troopers! Several of them departed for Coruscant -- perhaps one of them heard our joking speculation about the woman and took it as fact. Oh, dear; Palpatine will not be amused, even when you offer the truth in explanation."

Vader agreed with that -- his Master was already unamused and things were going to get worse. How could joking go so wrong? He prepared for his trip to the capital and the commanded audience with Palpatine.

* * *

"But, Master, I swear, there is _no_ truth in the story! The woman was disgustingly fat and dirty, probably a prostitute! Tarkin and I merely joked about what she would probably next claim ---!" 

"Vader, I am not amused at all! This is nothing about which a Sith lord should joke! Without my efforts, it would have spread throughout the Galaxy. However, my source was...silenced...before he could repeat the story. No more such jokes! Do you understand?"

Feeling like a teenage Padawan, Vader quietly replied, "Yes, Master."

Palpatine then asked, "It _was_ just a joke? You couldn't...? You didn't...?"

Startled, Vader indignantly blurted,"Master! Not only would it have been impossible, but she was _filthy_ and totally unattractive to me! Besides, the med droids will affirm my... condition, as you well know. The only child I have ever had or ever will have is the object of my search!"

"Yes, yes, my young apprentice, calm yourself. I do know that. I just had to reassure myself...and she is not carrying a clone child?" Palpatine knew the answer, even before he asked.

Vader drew himself up to his full height, took a deep breath, and indignantly replied. "Sir, you may be my Master, and I swore you my allegiance, but you cannot insult my integrity! You have heard my thoughts on cloning for that purpose! It is against my own belief in what is ethical. Even a Sith lord must have some ethics. Cloning purely to reproduce oneself is just wrong. If I felt otherwise, there would be many small duplicates of myself littering the Galaxy. There are, to my knowledge, none, and there shall ever more remain none." Vader finished and waited for the explosion of Imperial temper. It was not forthcoming. Instead, Palpatine uttered a short burst of laughter, genuine laughter.

"Bravo, my boy! I _felt_ your anger. You are correct -- even a Sith lord must have some ethics. Yours are not mine, I know that. And, yes, I do know that you could not, would not if you could, and do not desire to populate the Galaxy with your progeny. Go back to the Death Star and continue your search for your true son. I will contact you later." He abruptly dismissed Vader, and left the room.

Vader stood there a moment, feeling relieved, yet slightly crestfallen, that the confrontation had been less combative than expected. Then he also turned and left.

Why did he feel like a fifteen year old Padawan learner? A _young_ apprentice? He was more than forty years old, curse it! Of course, compared to his Master but _still_. And that speech on ethics, of all things. Vader cringed at the memory. Luckily, it had amused Palpy, not enraged him. Was that all he was good for? Amusing his Master? Vader thought not, although, in retrospect, Palpatine had usually seemed faintly amused by the earnest efforts of his apprentice. There seemed something wrong with that picture, though Vader wasn't quite sure what that something was He relaxed and decided to nap in the quiet cabin of the shuttle -- someone else could fly this damned thing for once.

* * *

"He _laughed_, Tarkin! Why do I feel insulted? I stood there, feeling like a Padawan called before the Council for some youthful indiscretion (and I do well remember how _that_ feels.) I am an adult now. I was no longer a Padawan learner when he took me as his Sith apprentice. But he treats me as if I were a Padawan still. It's an insult! I won't stand for it! He once wanted me named a Jedi Master; he put me on their Council as his personal representative. And now I'm treated like..." In frustrated anger, Vader threw a chair at the wall, and smaller objects rattled and threatened to fly. 

Tarkin ducked the flying chair and eyed the other rattlings with misgivings. "Vader, my friend. Of course, you are an adult. He knows that, but like a parent, he still manages to see the youth you were. At least, he laughed. It could have been far worse!" Privately, Tarkin also tended to see the residual youth surface in Vader far too often of late. Perhaps the tensions of this quest to find his son were becoming a bit too wearing on the always delicate balance of Vader's emotional state. Whatever the cause, Vader's behavior was sometimes almost schizophrenic.

Vader stopped and looked at Tarkin. "And that's another thing -- he seems to derive an undue amount of amusement at _my_ expense lately. Is that how he thinks of me? A mere object of amusement? A toy, a plaything, a pet to tease? If so, that is entirely too depressing." He sat abruptly, a picture of dejection and despair.

This was too much for Tarkin's peace of mind. He hastened to lighten the mood. "Vader, think, man! Hasn't he always been amused at your discomfort? He draws power from it! And I don't necessarily mean it as you do -- it empowers him mentally to make you uncomfortable, makes him feel superior. It is somewhat akin to your own intimidation tactics. Surely you can see that?" He kept his voice light, but worry for his friend's state of mind tinged his words.

Vader looked up, then nodded. "Yes, of course you are right, Tarkin. I do see that. But he does draw another power from my discomfort, it feeds that which he draws from the Force. I cannot explain it; I just know that it is so."

"What is it that you say he tells you, Vader? To _use_ your anger. Well, let yourself be angry with _him_, not with yourself."

Vader let that idea settle into place. Yes, that was what his Master always told him -- to use his anger, let it empower, not frustrate. He straightened his shoulders, thanked Tarkin, and retired to his quarters.

Tarkin watched him go. If Vader felt like an adolescent Padawan, then Tarkin felt like a schoolmaster whose charge was one very extreme case of arrested development. Really, at times, Vader seemed like he was forty-five going on sixteen. Well, at least his hormones weren't raging. Tarkin gave thanks for small favors and retired to his own quarters for the night.


	6. Five

Title: Vader's Quest Chronicles

Summary: Darth Vader learns that he has a son and the search begins

Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Star Wars is the property of George Lucas. No disrespect is intended with this story.

* * *

The monotony was monumental; chase a few phantom Rebels, check another rumor on the off-chance...Vader sighed. The only good it seemed to do was that Palpatine apparently received great satisfaction from Vader's efforts...which was a change, because old Palpy generally would not sanction failure. And Vader was currently failing abysmally. No Rebels. No son. And both sent Vader's frustrations soaring. His temper grew shorter as the weeks passed with no results. The Emperor flattered and soothed and assured his apprentice that things were going just as he had foreseen them. Bah! He always conveniently 'foresaw' things after the fact! If a prediction failed to materialize, he usually had a plausible reason that he had 'foreseen' as a possibility. Vader no longer believed most of his line of Bantha spit. Sometimes, he even marveled that he could ever have been so gullible. And then he silently raged at his own stupidity. He figured on a great afterlife -- he was certainly living a hellish one now! But that would change, Vader vowed; find his son, and together they would destroy the Emperor and rule the Galaxy as father and son. The thought gave him new hope, and in his daydreams, he wreaked violent vengeance upon Palpatine, and planned many a torturous demise for his Nemesis. 

Vader was rapidly becoming addicted to the rush of power that accompanied these thoughts. He would have to be careful or Palpy would sense them, and then it would be big trouble for Vader. He preferred not to envision the Emperor's reaction or the certain reprisal. It would _not_ be pretty. Thoughts once more carefully shielded, Vader returned to the Death Star and a conference with Tarkin.

* * *

The lightsaber flickered erratically, then failed. _What the...? _Vader impatiently threw it aside and strode to the cupboard where he usually kept a spare...only the cupboard was empty. His boyhood misadventures with lost lightsabers had finally born fruit -- he had begun constructing them two at a time. As an adult, he no longer lost them -- well, not often, anyway -- but now he tended to break them or wear them out from the hours he spent in practice. Well, this would occupy some hours today. Perhaps he would make a longer blade, and a deeper red would be nice -- more impressive. Jedi standards no longer mattered -- why had he adhered to them for so long? After all, he was a tall man and a man's lightsaber should be in proportion to his size, shouldn't it? He tried to ignore the voice in his mind: 

_You are becoming an arrogant show-off, Anakin. A Jedi is sure of_ _himself, yet modest and unassuming. If you spent as much time practicing _-

_Shut up, Obi- Wan! I **do** practice _-- _hours and hours. Anyway, I'm not a Jedi any longer now, am I? The Jedi Order no longer exists. I have outlived my peers. I have outlived you all! _He viciously snapped a final piece into position and tested the feel of the weapon. Just another small adjustment. He set the completed lightsaber aside and began the second. As he worked, he continued to hear Obi-Wan's voice in the back of his mind... _What was with that man? _If he was dead, his old Master surely had more to do in the afterlife than haunt his only Padawan apprentice.

And if he still lived... well, the same must hold true there also. Recently, it had been almost as if Obi-Wan were right here with him, getting into Vader's thoughts, where he was not wanted, reminding him that he was still, deep inside, Anakin Skywalker, once and always a Knight of the Jedi Order.

_I am Sith. _Vader again stressed the distinction to himself. _More powerful than any Jedi who ever lived! I turned my back to the Jedi; when Master Windu died, my choice was sealed, there can never be a return for me even should I desire it. So get out of my mind Obi- Wan! You betrayed me! You tried to kill me! But I arose from near-death and still live, while **you **... you are all **gone. **I killed you **all!**_

In his mind he heard a fading voice: _I'm so sorry, Anakin; I failed you, my brother; I failed..._

Vader tested the second lightsaber. _Perfect. _He would have to grow accustomed to the slight additional heft of it, but the color was a lovely deep menacing red -- _like cooling hot lava on...No! Not lava! Never lava! Just a nice deep menacing red, maybe like a sunset on Tatooine... Aaargh! Enough! Just a nice darker red!_

Vader put away the spare lightsaber and returned to his duties for the day with second new one at his belt. He patted it in satisfaction and considered other possible shadings of red suitable for the lightsaber of a Sith. Maybe, the next ones ...

At the evening meal, Vader demonstrated his new lightsaber for Tarkin, who was underwhelmed. He regarded Vader's new toy with an obvious lack of enthusiasm.

"Yes, my friend, very pretty, nicely menacing. But -- do you really expect anyone to notice? Or to care, if they do? As you so frequently tell me, you are the last of your former colleagues."

Dismissing this with a wave of his hand, Vader continued to sweep the blade through the air, enjoying the thrum and hiss as it swished and swooped.

_Sometimes, _thought Tarkin, _it's like having an eternally immature adolescent on board. Would Vader **ever** grow up? Maybe he'd been retarded by his experiences _on _Mustafar? No, he was already an adult then...There must be some other cause for his frequent bouts of juvenile_

_behavior. At least he is in a good mood tonight, with, _so _far, no temper tantrums..._

"Come, Vader, sit. Eat. Our... _friend_ contacted me today. He is unhappy with us. It seems that the Rebels have slipped a spy into the Senate -- yes, I know, it should be spies, plural -- but this particular spy has apparently gotten into some very sensitive restricted files. They aren't yet ready to say what is missing, but when they are, we will be notified. Our superior feels that _we_ are in some way responsible for the spy's success in penetrating so far...Although how we were to know...?" Tarkin shook his head. The accusatory vagaries of the Emperor were eternally a mystery to him. He suspected that Vader was just as clueless. Not for the first time, he wondered if there was a history of insanity in Palpatine's family.

* * *

Tapestries fluttered and fell, furniture flew and shattered. Walls cracked and plaster fell, statuary crashed and glass shattered. Palpatine was in a rage. His aides and bodyguards prudently made themselves scarce, as the onslaught of Force from Pa1patine's rage destroyed his office. Sensing his own danger from the results of his rage, the Emperor quickly exited the chamber. _The nerve of them! How could Alderaan do this to him? The planet he had upheld to the Galaxy for twenty years as the ideal for Imperial standards! Bail Organa would pay for this treachery!_

Having vented much of his rage, Palpatine calmed, was distracted by a passing thought. _What was with Lord Vader and his recent preference for the **physical? **Use of the Force was so satisfying! _He felt so much better now, calmer, more able to think clearly, as befitted a Sith Master.

_Yes, Bail Organa would pay for his treachery. Too bad that the Princess had not proven to be Vader's child... that would have been delicious revenge... turn the traitor's adopted daughter to the Dark Side and make her a Sith. No matter now; Alderaan would now face a different destiny...! _With deadly calm, he sent a message to Tarkin aboard the Death Star. It was time to test that ultimate weapon's capabilities and Alderaan would do quite nicely as a target. Double-cross him would they? He felt his powers reflect the anticipation of that planet's impending spectacular and sudden total destruction. _Ahhh! **Revenge **was so sweet!

* * *

_

Vader chuckled -- _so Alderaan had joined the Rebellion, right under old Palpy's nose! His model planet! _The irony of it did not escape him. _How clever of Bail Organa to fool the Emperor for all these years, for surely this was nothing sudden or new. I wouldn't have thought Organa had it in him to be so duplicitous. No wonder the old Sarlacc's spawn was enraged. They would pay, and dearly -- no doubts there._

And now Vader was to intercept Princess Leia's diplomatic shuttle and retrieve the stolen plans for the Death Star. Well, she seemed to be headed toward Tatooine, his own reluctantly intended destination; this would be only a minor interruption in his personal agenda. He would deal with Princess Leia, ship her and the plans over to Tarkin aboard the Death Star, then finish his own errand.

He intended to finally pay a belated visit to Owen Lars on Tatooine, sand and memories be damned. His stepbrother must surely know something of value. Truth be told, Vader had half forgotten the man's very existence -- they had only met once, when Shmi had died, right before the Clone War began -- and he had never spared another thought for him. Until now. There were just too many disturbances in the Force emanating from there, so strong that even Vader could sense them. His son must be on Tatooine, he felt it! As much as he hated Tatooine, what better place would there have been to hide his son from him? And he was betting that Owen could provide some answers.

A small shuttle appeared on the viewscreen. Vader ordered the _Executor _in pursuit, giving himself over to the anticipation of the inevitable outcome -- the _Tantive IV _could never outrun his much larger and faster Star Destroyer. As he watched, he sensed something -- if he didn't know it was impossible, he would swear that someone on that shuttle...

_No, _Vader thought, _it is just that I am too close to that wild Force talent on the planet's surface; my senses are becoming muddled. _He shook his head. A few shots were fired and the tractor beam was engaged. Vader prepared to board the _Tantive IV, _take the Princess prisoner. And _then_... Things were working out **beautifully!**


	7. Six

Title: Vader's Quest Chronicles

Summary: Darth Vader learns that he has a son and the search begins

Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Star Wars is the property of George Lucas. No disrespect is intended with this story.

Notes: The story has now moved firmly into ANH

* * *

When he had told Tarkin that the Princess was arrogant and pushy, he didn't know the _half_ of it. That chick had a _mouth_ on her! And stubborn! She hadn't been afraid of him, either. Organa had certainly raised some daughter there. Though Vader would bet that she hadn't learned _those_ names at her father's knee -- even _Padme _had known better curses than had Bail Organa. Leia had more than likely learned them from her recent acquaintances among the Rebels. His ears still burned from a few of the choice things that she'd called him -- whew! Was Tarkin in for a treat! Despite himself, Vader began to chuckle -- just wait! He wanted to be there when she faced Tarkin -- though the man could use some choice words himself to his troopers, the Grand Moff was more than a little prudish in speaking to women. His imagination sent Vader into another round of chuckling as he followed his retinue onto the Death Star. _Yes, Tarkin's reactions would __be... interesting. Interesting, indeed!_. 

Princess Leia was still mouthing off to his troopers as Vader watched them lead her away to the detention level.. And she hadn't repeated herself much, either -- she had _really_ picked an extensive vocabulary of obscenities! Too bad she wasn't his daughter instead of Organa's -- he would have been proud to have fathered that spirit. But he would _never_ have condoned that vocabulary, not even in his son. If Palpy didn't order her termination, and if she weren't a Rebel, he _might_ consider her as a good match for his son -- if and when he ever located the boy. He certainly wasn't on Tatooine, if he ever had been. And, unfortunately, he couldn't ask Owen now, either. His troopers -- Vader's Fist -- had gotten somewhat overzealous in searching for the droids that only _might_ be carrying plans for the Death Star. Vader felt badly about that -- he hadn't thought to caution leniency for the Lars family. But then, who'd have thought they'd trace the droids to his stepbrother's homestead? Was that coincidence or planning?

And where _were_ the blasted droids now anyway? A protocol droid and an R-2 unit couldn't last long alone on Tatooine ... the cursed sand would ruin them in mere days. Only frequent oil baths and maintenance kept droids functioning at all amidst the sandy sea.

And apparently, a 'Ben Kenobi' had been one of those assorted hermits he'd dismissed so casually a few months back. Ben -- Obi-Wan? If so, he had refrained from using the Force for _two decades_. How? Vader couldn't imagine life without the constant casual use of his powers. Maybe a few days... but twenty years? He would never know for certain now -- all trace of the hermit was gone from his desert sanctuary -- Vader's men had found only assorted anonymous trash discarded by him. Kenobi and some teenage kid had hired a smuggler to transport them and their droids off Tatooine just a jump ahead of Vader's Fist. But then they'd gone to hyperspace and disappeared. Too bad there hadn't been time to attach a tracking device. But at least now the Empire would be on the lookout for their ship -- they couldn't disappear forever.

_If this 'Ben Kenobi' was Obi- Wan _-- and Vader felt it likely that he was -- _was the kid his newest Padawan? How long had he been training him? It couldn't be long, for those disturbances in the Force were fairly recent. But... how old was that kid? And they had felt Anakin was too old? __This kid had to be at least **twice** that old! Wait a minute..._

Never really good at casual everyday math skills, Vader did some careful mental calculations: _Twice Anakin's age when he began training would be about twenty; it had been twenty years... Was that kid **my**_ _son? Has Obi- Wan been training **my son **to be a... **Jedi**__The nerve of that man! Just wait, Obi- Wan, _he vowed, _I **will** be the death of you! He is supposed to become Sith, not Jedi! Boy, is Palpy going to be ticked off _-- _and he'll blame me_, _like he always does..._

Then Vader brightened. _At least, this kid is the right sex, right age, and the right species. This might pan out, after all. _And with that thought, he joined Tarkin in the control room.

* * *

"Come on, Tarkin, not me! Can't one of the officers interrogate her? I've had enough of that girl's foul mouth to last me the rest of my life! Her curses could strip the finish from a Star Destroyer! I'm sure she never learned any of that language from her parents -- they are nice people. Do I _have_ to interrogate her?" 

Tarkin chuckled. "Yes, Vader _you_ have to do it; I can't spare any men right now, if we are to get this satellite to Alderaan space. Just set her up to... ah... curse at the interrogation droids. You can tell your Master you were there; you don't have to say for how long." With a small smile, he turned back to the controls, confident that Vader would do his duty. _Surely, the girl couldn't be all that bad; she was a Princess, after all, gently raised, and had served as a Senator; she knew proper behavior. Vader must be letting his dislike of the child _-- _for she was awfully young for the roles she had assumed _-- _to be guiding his opinions; he had once described her as 'pushy and arrogant.' She'd calm down and listen to reason when treated with the courtesy and respect due her position. Despite a lifetime of associating with Palpatine, Vader really does have no idea of __diplomacy and tact. _

Tarkin fancied events would transpire better under his own handling.

* * *

For a wonder, she was silent. Had she finally exhausted her vocabulary, wondered Vader, or had fear stilled her tongue? For he had seen that same look in the eyes of another pretty young woman long ago -- terror, and directed at himself. He didn't really want her to fear him, just to be quiet and cooperate with the interrogation. Maybe silence was her latest tactic; however, the droids would get answers from her. No one resisted successfully, no one. He turned abruptly and left; the door closed behind him, as the interrogation began.

* * *

"What? She said _nothing_? How can that be? No one resists the interrogation!" Tarkin could not believe his ears. 

"She cursed nonstop, sir, that is all," answered the man before him. With a wave, Tarkin dismissed his informant, then turned to Vader, incredulity in his eyes.

Suppressing a sneaking admiration for the girl, Vader agreed that it was highly unusual, to say the least. "Only a few have done so, most were trained in use of the Force, and had many years of experience in masking their thoughts. The answer must be that she really does know nothing."

Tarkin emphatically shook his head. "Oh no, my friend, as a leader in the Resistance, she knows plenty. How she has managed to beat the interrogation, I don't know, but perhaps the knowledge she is to be terminated will loosen her tongue!"

"Tarkin, no!" Vader was shocked. "She is a Senator!" Besides, ordering terminations was his job, not Tarkin's, and then usually on orders from the Emperor.

Tarkin shrugged. "We have already informed her office that all aboard the _Tantive IV _perished -they think she's already lost to them, anyway. Her termination will merely make our statement truth." His smile did not reach his eyes.

Vader gave a short bark of laughter. "Tarkin, you are as cold as Palpatine! I did tell you to issue that statement about the shuttle, didn't I? I had forgotten. But do we really need to terminate the Princess?"

"Eventually. But until we get time to attend to it, she can rot in a cell in the detention block, for all I care. However, she first will answer _my_ questions!" He turned to a pair of guards. "Bring the Princess to the control room. She can witness our ceremony to activate this battle station!"

Vader nodded. "So we have a target? You don't mean... Alderaan? I knew that Palpatine was angry with them, but to destroy the planet? I never thought that even _he_ would go so far. My Sith Master is ruthless, but to annihilate millions of innocents at once, just to prove a point..."

Vader fell silent as he heard voices in the corridor. _Uh-oh, _he grinned. _The Princess has regained her voice... and refreshed her vocabulary as well. _He stole a glance at Tarkin; he wanted to see the man's face when he heard Leia's language for the first time. Behind his mask, he grinned in delight. Tarkin's face showed shock, distaste, and consternation as he realized that this was the 'gently reared' Princess he meant to treat with courtesy and respect.

And Leia was in fine form; Vader recognized a few of the epithets as having been earlier hurled at himself. Catching sight of Tarkin, she momentarily paused, looked from him to Vader and back and opened her mouth. Vader awaited the onslaught, but was disappointed. When they came, the words, while insulting, were mild. "Governor Tarkin. I might have known I would find you holding Vader's leash. I thought I recognized your foul stench when I was brought on board."

Tarkin matched her tone. "Princess Leia. Charming to the end. You don't know how hard it was to sign the order for your termination. But first, I want you to be a guest at a ceremony making this battle station fully operational."

Leia fixed her eyes on the planet framed in the viewscreen -- Alderaan. "You can't! Alderaan is peaceful! We have no weapons!"

Tarkin looked at the Princess with hard eyes, steel in his voice as he snapped, "Where is the Rebel base? You want to save your people? Then name _the Rebel base!_"

Leia tilted her head to see around him, eyes wide and staring. Vader grasped her upper arms, supporting her as she trembled in terror. Indecision kept her silent.

Tarkin pressed for an answer. "Name the system!"

"Dantooine!" she at last blurted. "They're on Dantooine! " She collapsed back against Vader.

Tarkin smirked in satisfaction. "You see? I knew she would be reasonable." He turned to the men at the controls. "You may fire when ready."

"No!" screamed Leia, trying desperately to free herself from Vader's grip. Ordinarily her terror would have empowered him, but he really did sympathize with the girl. Not that he would have minded destroying _Tatooine_but she was losing everyone she loved as well as her home world.

That had to hurt. She was one brave kid. He effortlessly retained his grip on her arms, supporting her sagging figure.

"Dantooine is too far away for an effective demonstration. But don't worry, we will investigate that system." And Tarkin turned to the screen as Alderaan vanished into a fireball of destruction. A reluctant and grief -stricken sob escaped Leia, although her eyes remained dry and staring.

"Return the Princess to her cell to await termination." Tarkin summarily dismissed her and returned to other things of more immediate importance than one insignificant Rebel Princess slated for eventual termination.

Shock and grief kept Leia silent as she was led away. No doubt she would soon rediscover her tongue and use it to effectively castigate anyone and everyone within earshot. Vader vowed to remain well away from the detention block. As much as he was beginning to like the girl, he had no desire to unnecessarily endure her unending stream of vulgar obscenities.

Unlike Vader, Tarkin had ventured into the detention block where the Princess was a prisoner. And evidently, she had subjected him to a thoroughly obscene and lengthy description of his character, sexual proclivities and parental ancestry.

Tarkin's shocked utterances sent Vader into more raucous laughter. _Poor Tarkin. He really was a Prude _-- _that was the only word for it. _"You can't say I didn't warn you, Wilhuff. I _told_ you that she knew some first class obscenities ... including a few new to me." He chuckled -- this was the best joke ever! And he hadn't had to do _anything_ but bring that mouthy girl on board!

"You know, Tarkin, I think that may be how she resisted the interrogation -- her mind was so focused on thinking up new... er...uh... colorfully descriptive metaphors that she could camouflage her knowledge of the Rebellion." He grinned hugely, and then burst into laughter, as Tarkin sputtered in indignation. "You must admit that she _does_ have an extensive vocabulary." He continued to snicker in amusement.

"But, Vader, she's a _Princess_! She dresses so demurely, so appropriately. And then she opens her mouth" Tarkin stopped, unable to proceed. He shook his head. "My _men_ could take lessons from her!"

Vader stopped laughing long enough to reply. "Calm down, Wil. I doubt it's her normal speech pattern. I think it's sheer bravado. The poor kid is so terrified, it's either curse or cry -- and she won't give us the satisfaction of seeing her cry. She'll settle down eventually. Just don't go down there again, I know that I am staying away. Good night, my friend." He left the room, still intermittently chuckling at Tarkin's reactions. _I wonder how many species she culled her curses from? Some _of _them were anatomically interesting propositions, and most were downright __impossible for **any** species. _Coming from behind his mask, his chuckles echoed eerily enough to startle the few stormtroopers he passed in the corridors.

* * *

"Sir! Sir! Lord Vader!" The trooper tripped over one of the irritatingly omnipresent mouse droids as he hurried after Vader. "Sir!" 

Vader paused and turned. "Yes? You spoke to me?"

"Yes sir! Governor Tarkin requests that you join him in the control room. We have captured something of interest."

"Oh? Very well. Dismissed." Vader glanced down and noticed that he had 'forgotten' to pick up his comlink when leaving his quarters... no wonder Tarkin had sent some poor trooper to track him down. He smiled ruefully; his subconscious desire to be cut off from his Master's beck and call had the unfortunate result of cutting him off from Tarkin as well. He turned his steps toward the control room and Tarkin. 'Something of interest' could encompass too much to speculate upon. He would have to wait and see. He entered the control room and joined Tarkin.

"Oh, there you are, Vader. How do you like our prize?"

Caught in the tractor beam and being inexorably pulled into the Death Star was a small disk shaped ship -- the _Millennium Falcon? _It certainly matched the description of the ship which had blasted out of the Mos Eisley spaceport carrying Kenobi and company. Vader watched its steady progress into the bowels of a hangar level docking bay . Yes, he was certain that this was the correct ship -- he could sense it. Now he had them! His son! Of course, he'd have to get him away from Obi-Wan first, but with them as his prisoners, that should be easy. He'd house Kenobi down there with the Princess -- he could listen to her. Vader pictured the oh-so-proper Obi- Wan's ears turning red in embarrassment and smiled grimly. The boy would go elsewhere, under guard, but treated as befitting Vader's son. The smuggler and anyone else on board would be eliminated. And Vader wasn't forgetting the droids -- were they the ones belonging to the Princess, or just possessions of those on board?

In the corridor, he paused a moment, feeling a presenceyes, Obi-Wan was certainly among those aboard the captured ship. Vader's feelings on meeting him again were muddled and ambiguous -- assuredly, he would like to murder the man for what he had done -- maiming Vader and leaving him for dead -- but there was also something of a yearning to return to the friendship and camaraderie they had once shared. He knew the latter to be impossible -- he could never go back. He knew without any real doubt that he must face his former master in a duel to the end. And that thought sparked a sadness deep within him.

_What was happening now? _As he strode purposefully toward the docking bay holding the captive ship, Vader's senses caught an edge of panic and worry among the stormtroopers. He paused and used his retrieved comlink to contact Tarkin in the control room. As usual, Tarkin was calm. Not to worry. There was some commotion down in one of the detention blocks. But those causing the trouble were trapped and it would soon be over...

Thoughtfully, Vader continued to hold his comlink. _Detention level problem? Which cell block, _he wondered; _surely not the Princess...? _An annoying idea took root in his mind -- _surely Kenobi _and _his companions weren't attempting a rescue_, _were they? _He spoke again into his comlink.

No one was aboard the _Millennium Falcon, _a scanning mission aboard had been sabotaged by persons unknown, but presumed to be its passengers. "When you find them, bring them to me!" snapped Vader. So _now they were loose on the Death Star. _His mind busily considered possibilities, certain that at least some of Kenobi's group were attempting a rescue of Princess Foul-Mouth. _Well, _he thought in amusement, _at least it puts her termination on hold..._

Vader's finely tuned senses felt the shutdown of the tractor beam controls. _Aha! That bad to be Kenobi _-- _only he would have both the knowledge _and _the ability to escape detection. That is the whereabouts of one of the group..._

_Trash compactors shut down? Force take it! They hadn't escaped by jumping into the trash compactor_, _had they? It was the only other way out of the cell block where the Princess was held, but surely even **she**_ _wouldn't..._A quick question into the comlink, and his suspicions were confirmed -- they had indeed escaped into the trash compactor, somehow managed to shut them all down, and then gotten out again and were now somewhere on the run, presumably in the direction of the docking bay and their ship. Vader ordered a tracking beacon attached to said vessel, just in case. Then he followed his own instincts, searching out Obi-Wan Kenobi.

As he had expected, Vader located Kenobi in a corridor near where the _Millennium Falcon _rested. He stepped out to face him. "It has been a long time, Obi-Wan. At last, we meet again. The circle is now complete."

The older man stopped. "You still have much to learn, Darth."

Vader gritted his teeth in annoyance. He hated to be called 'Darth' -- it was so improper! However, he suppressed his annoyance, and replied, "You **were **once my Master. But that was long ago; I am the Master now!" He continued to face Kenobi, his hand on his lightsaber. Almost as one, they ignited their weapons, but remained still, each assessing the other, waiting. Vader spoke, taunting, "Your powers weaken, old man, You should have remained in exile, hidden on Tatooine! Now your end will come, much sooner than you could have wished!" He thrust at Kenobi, and the older man as swiftly blocked the blow. They continued to duel, with Kenobi backing slowly toward the hangar, the buzz and thrum of their lightsabers the only sound in the corridor. As in the past, their skills were well matched. Vader was enjoying the challenge of a well-trained human opponent, but couldn't resist goading his former Master. "You retain your skills, Obi-Wan, but your powers fade. Prepare to join the Force!"

"You cannot win, Darth! Your powers have grown since Mustafar, but I also have grown. If I slay you, you will merely cease to exist. But cut me down and I will only become even more powerfuL." He paused briefly, eyes flickering toward the hangar, then back to Vader again.

"You wish! I am the Master here now!" Vader suddenly lunged and slashed, striking Obi-Wan down. His cloak fluttered to the floor, but Kenobi had disappeared. A bit saddened, Vader kicked at the pieces of the cloak, and turned toward the docking bay.

He could see Leia, the boy, the smuggler, a Wookiee, and two droids on a desperate dash for the waiting ship. The boy stopped, screamed "Ben, No!" _That's it, Kid, hold everyone up, and I'll __have you. _But the boy suddenly aimed his blaster at the door controls and fired, as Vader heard Kenobi's disembodied voice shout _"Run. Luke. Run!" _Vader reached the doors just as the final panel closed. He paused a moment, before turning back the way he had come. His men had their orders -- let them escape, but not too easily, to allay suspicion. They would obey.

He joined Tarkin in the control room. "Are they away?" he demanded as he entered.

"Yes Vader," replied Tarkin. "They've just completed their jump to hyperspace and are now no doubt celebrating their easy escape. I hope you know what you're doing, my friend. We are taking a great risk here. Are you certain the homing beacon is securely in place?"

Vader chuckled, a sound so reminiscent of his Master that Tarkin felt chills course down his spine. "Oh, yes. This is a day to be long remembered -- we will soon see the end of the Rebel Alliance! Just as we have this day already seen the passing of the last of the Jedi! My Master will be pleased!" Inside Vader, his Anakin self mourned but Vader himself exulted that he had at last had his revenge upon Obi-Wan. Though the feeling was not as sweet as he had anticipated, perhaps because he had long ago let go of the hate, retaining only the anger.

_And what had Obi- Wan meant by those final words about becoming even more powerful? How could he become more powerful after his death? _Vader shook off his feelings of unease, and left Tarkin to go take another of his increasingly frequent showers, as if he were trying to wash away the taint of something unpleasant. Besides, in the shower, his tears for the final loss of his longago friend and mentor would be indistinguishable; he could let Anakin mourn.


	8. Seven

Title: Vader's Quest Chronicles

Summary: Darth Vader learns that he has a son and the search begins

Chapter 7

Timeframe: Beginning between ROTS and ANH

Disclaimer: Star Wars is the property of George Lucas. No disrespect is intended with this story.

* * *

Vader strode purposefully into the Death Star's command center, in search of Tarkin. His presence had been 'requested' at a meeting of commanders. What did his friend have in mind now? He looked around, elected to stand. Save Tarkin, he heartily despised all those present, and would not sit at the same table with them for any reason. 

Tarkin spoke. "Lord Vader; glad that you could join us. It has come to our attention that lately you are a little...shall we say..._tense_. You haven't taken leave in several years, and we feel that you need a vacation."

Vader was startled. _Leave? A vacation? In the middle of quelling a rebellion? Were they insane? True, a few days away would be nice, but to go where? And would the Emperor consent?_

"A vacation? My Master will never --"

Tarkin interrupted with a smile. "But, Vader, he did consent when presented with our arguments -- that you were in real danger of facing a form of battle fatigue and loss of appropriate judgment; that you were becoming tense, irritable, and were prone to bouts of --" Tarkin hesitated, as if searching for just the right word -- "um... _immature _behavior. All are signs that you are in desperate need of time to relax and enjoy yourself."

Vader knew that his friend really meant 'childish behavior' -- he was aware that he had behaved so on several occasions lately, and was later thoroughly ashamed of himself. But he was a Sith lord, above admitting such small mistakes! "If you say so, Tarkin. And the Emperor has _approved_ this leave of absence?"

"Yes, Vader," replied Tarkin. He looked around at the others. "Dismissed, Return to your duties." When they had gone, he continued. "My friend, I'm worried about you. Ever since we deliberately let the _Millennium Falcon _escape, you have become erratic, you aren't eating well, you spend entirely too much time in the shower, you wander the corridors at night... It's like you have lost your sense of purpose. So I took it upon myself to request a few days leave for you. You therefore have reservations at a small resort on Naboo -- yes, I know, you would rather not go there, but they cater to military and Imperial personnel."

"But, Tarkin, Naboo -- Padme -- she -- I -- we -- I _can't_!" Vader was suddenly short of breath, unable to get enough air into his lungs, his throat tightening as if caught in one of his own Force choke holds. He hit the button on his respirator for a release of his asthma medication, as Tarkin guided him into a seat. After a few minutes, his breathing eased and he continued.

"You see why I can't go there? How would it look if the feared Scourge of the Galaxy spent his entire vacation having one long asthma attack? I'd become the Galactic laughingstock!"

Tarkin laughed. "Yes, I understand, but this is a newer resort -- nothing that even existed when you were on Naboo before. In one of his rare humanitarian impulses, the Emperor commissioned its creation as a recuperative resort for battle weary Imperial troops. So you _will_ go. Palpatine has ordered it so."

Vader nodded. If his Master ordered, he would obey, but he wasn't happy about going to Naboo, not happy at all.

* * *

His respirator firmly in place, Vader left the shuttle and looked around. It was Naboo, yet it wasn't. The sky, the lakes, the trees all sang of Naboo, but the architecture screamed 'Imperial budget modern.' He might get through the next few days after all. He motioned a waiting droid to take his bags and entered the lobby of the resort. 

Check in was painless -- he signed in, was given a key card and some brochures, then followed the droid to his room. His room was surprisingly large and luxurious -- a suite, actually. It seemed that rank really _did_ have its privileges.

Vader dismissed the droid and released the latches on his mask and helmet. Removing them, he breathed deeply, and was immediately assailed by the reality of Naboo... The scent of wildflowers, the sounds of water, the gentle warm breeze -- incongruous in a place furnished in Coruscant modern. Oh well, the bed was large, the water undoubtedly hot, and the food would probably be adequate. At least, it wasn't a Star Destroyer or the Death Star. Wilhuff had been right -- he really _did_ need a vacation.

The shower was all he could wish for. He programmed it for 'massage,' set the water to 'hot,' and stepped in. Under the pulsating spray of water, he felt his tensions evaporate -- he didn't even have to worry about interruptions -- comlinks were banned in the resort. Ha! Let Palpy fume if he wanted to contact his apprentice. Vader suddenly decided to really enjoy the next few days.

He left the shower and, clad only in a towel, stretched across the bed... a real bed, rather like Padme's had been. He closed his eyes and fell asleep, with pleasant memories of his wife... He could almost smell her perfume. Dreams came then. Pleasant, _very_ pleasant, indeed. He let his mind remember and relaxed his guard over his Anakin self; in his dreams, they were one whole person.

Anakin awoke and stretched, reaching for his angel, his love, his wife... And Vader clamped into place, firmly pushing him back where he belonged, in the deepest recesses of Vader's mind. How did that happen? How had he relaxed his guard enough to let Anakin emerge? Maybe this vacation thing was a mistake, after all. He could leave today. One night away was surely enough. He dressed and went to order breakfast and to investigate checkout procedures.

Vader thought things through as he ate. He could check out, all right, but there was no shuttle for three more days - part of the minimum stay package for Imperial personnel. If he checked out, he'd have to roam Naboo with no food and no place to stay. Palpy himself had surely designed the plan. Vader sighed and finished his excellent breakfast. Oh, well, if he had to stay, maybe he could do a little sightseeing.

He consulted the colorful brochure that he had received with his key card. Hmmmm. He had no desire to visit the capital; visiting Gungan ruins and holy places didn't appeal. And he liked water, but deep-sea diving to view the core monsters sounded as hideous as the monsters themselves were reputed to be... Aha! He'd take the lake cruise, he'd go incognito, so that he could enjoy the pleasant scents and fresh air of Naboo.

Imagining himself to be just another anonymous tourist, Vader booked a spot on the tour cruise leaving at noon. He elected to carry his respirator hung from his belt, just in case. But he didn't think he'd really need it. Using a women's makeup stick, he penciled a thin mustache on his upper lip, pulled the hood of a cloak well up over his head, and boarded the tour boat.

He stood alone at the railing, watching the coastline, absently listening to the perky little tour guide. She smiled and chattered on about Naboo and the lakes and how the resort had been established. His eyes were watching for familiar sights, wanting to see, yet dreading it also. He spotted the villa along the distant shore, heard the guide brightly announce that Varykino was owned by the Naboo government, but the Queen was currently in residence, so visitors weren't being allowed today, although the tour usually did include a visit there. Vader sighed in a mixture of relief and disappointment..

Today, the guide announced, they would visit a small village at the far end of the lakes, home to a reclusive widow known locally as 'Milady of the Lakes.' No one ever seemed to see her; the appeal was in the romantic suggestion of sadly blighted love. The town also had some interesting historic buildings. Souvenirs would also be available for purchase there.

Vader wondered briefly about the widow; she hadn't been there some twenty or so years ago, though her tumble-down estate had been. Padme had told him that it belonged to a distant relation who had let it deteriorate to near ruins. Either the widow liked it that way or had made some repairs. Anakin and Padme had wandered the grounds, hand in hand, investigating the ruins. Anakin had denounced it as a wreck; Padme had thought the place romantic. _Women! _thought Vader. From what he could glimpse, it was still pretty much a ruinous heap. He imagined his wife would still view it as romantic. He smiled and shook his head, then turned and continued his walk about the village.

He eventually returned to the dock with the other passengers. all of whom carried cheap mementos of the town. He wanted no reminders of this visit and needed none from his previous one -- Anakin could remember enough for both of them.

Returning to his suite at the resort, he found a message awaiting him -- if Lord Vader pleased, he was welcome to use the private baths of the Naboo government. Vader grimaced in annoyance. Who had told them that he was here? Probably Palpy, trying to keep him reminded of his official status as the Emperor's representative. And he would probably try to contact Vader there, also. Vader thought not, and sent regrets, declining the invitation. It was a first rate facility; too bad he had to decline. Palpy could just employ some of his so-called Sith patience, for a change. Vader vowed to remain out of contact for as long as possible. He was, after all, on vacation!

The resort offered entertainment in the evening -- holovids in the lounge or music in the nightclub. Vader elected to try the nightclub. He wished that he hadn't. The band had been imported from Tatooine. The so-called music set his teeth on edge -- some sort of dissonant cacophony that reminded him of mating banthas. He finished his sparkling mineral water and returned to his room. Maybe tomorrow night he would try the holovids -- it surely couldn't be worse!

Not being worse did not make it better. However, the room was dark, the chair comfortable and relaxing, the holovid a bit of mindless fluff. Vader had decided to try for anonymity again and wore the cloak and penciled mustache -- he rather liked the look of the mustache; maybe he could grow one -- he did have quite a lot of hair on his upper lip.

The third morning brought an engraved formal invitation to the Queen's reception that evening at the palace in Theed. At the Emperor's request, they would welcome Lord Vader as the Emperor's official representative at the reception_Why that cheap, miserable misbegotten offspring of a __bantha and a sarlacc's mating! No wonder Palpy had approved the leave -- he knew I would otherwise balk at attending a reception on Naboo! Now I have no choice, but to attend. _Vader snarled in frustration. The Queen's office had arranged transport both to and from the event and had left no instructions on contacting to cancel or send regrets. Vader borrowed a few more curses from Leia's vocabulary in the attempt to adequately express himself. Then he shrugged and sighed. Oh well; he was leaving tomorrow, anyway, and had nothing else planned for his last night on the planet.

Vader dressed carefully that evening, making sure his 'Vader suit' was clean and wrinkle-free, his boots polished to a mirror sheen, the helmet and face mask unblemished. There was one thing that could be said for the 'Vader suit' -- he was never at a loss for appropriate dress for any occasion. With a wry smile, he donned the mask and helmet, and left his room; his transportation to Theed had arrived.

The little Queen was ornately robed. Vader expressed his pleasure at meeting her and extended the Emperor's greetings. He briefly wondered if, under the elaborate and bizarre facial make-up, she actually _was_ the Queen of Naboo, or was perhaps one of the innumerable decoys that Naboo Queens were so fond of. He glanced at the attending handmaidens, and concluded that, in all probability, she was the Queen. That make-up, thoughIn more than thirty years it hadn't changed much. He smiled, recalling that, to the ten year old Anakin, even with the ludicrous face paint, Padme had been the most beautiful being in the Galaxy. And without the face paint...well, he'd rather not go there right now. He forced his attention back to the Queen.

"We understand that you are a guest at the Imperial resort? We would be honored if you would stay at our villa on the lake..."

Vader suppressed a shudder -- _-uh-no-way-never-no-how- too many memories. _He declined as graciously as possible, citing the fact that he would depart Naboo the next morning.

"But speaking of the lakes, your Majesty, what do you know of the reclusive lady known as 'Milady of the Lakes'?" Vader was curious, without quite understanding why. And it did provide a source of idle chit-chat.

The little Queen sighed. "So sad and so romantic. She was a grieving widow. So young. So beautiful. She lost both her husband and her children. Of course, it was long before I was born"

_It would be, _thought Vader as he recalled the Naboo penchant for teenage Queens. "Does she ever leave the estate?" he asked. He could understand her desire for solitude at first, but twenty years? A bit excessive, in his opinion.

"Qh, no! Never. She sends her servants on errands, and she rarely has visitors. She has said that the tranquility and solitude are soothing to her soul. Such a sad and romantic story." The Queen sighed again, smiled at him and then excused herself to speak to others. Vader watched her go.

He suspected a strong addiction to mushy, romantic holovids -- she was of prime age for the tendency.

He mused to himself, though. _Tranquil and soothing... yes, the atmosphere certainly had been soothing there, much as Padme's presence had been to him. Too bad the widow didn't go out... she sounded like someone who could really relate to ...er... **Anakin's** sense of loss after all these years. Hmmm. _Maybe when he became Emperor, he could order her to leave her seclusion and then meet her. Tucking that thought away, he heard a chuckle in his mind, suspiciously like that of Obi-Wan. He pointedly ignored it.

Idle, stilted conversation with assorted other dignitaries occupied the rest of his evening. Vader's mind threw a few more curses at his Master for his duplicity. Why, right now, he could be back at the resort, watching...um...oh yes, tonight's entertainment was exotic dancers and a cocktail party -- read that writhing Twi'leks in skimpy costumes and cheap booze. Maybe the reception wasn't so bad, after all... And it couldn't last much longer -- he watched the young Queen smother yet another in a long series of yawns. He sent a few more 'sleepy' suggestions to her. He couldn't leave before she did, and he wanted to get some sleep himself. He stood to one side and concentrated. Ah, yes, there she went. Vader excused himself and also left the reception.

In his rooms, he stripped off his clothes, hit the shower, and then retired. He should have done this long ago. Too bad he had to return to the Death Star tomorrow. He stretched across the bed, luxuriating in the sheer space of it. _If only Padme were here_ and he drifted into sleep, dreaming of his wife.

* * *

"Well, Wilhuff, I do thank you. I did have a pleasant few days, despite the location." Vader was in an expansive mood. He had occupied his return trip with daydreams of one sort or another, nothing of any consequence -- he had certainly not desired to watch the available in-flight holovid. And he could catch up on Holonet News later. 

"So I see, my friend. You look -- and sound -- much better! There is a certain spring to your step now, an upbeat tone to your voice, that had both been missing lately. It pleases me.

"And _we_ are ready to move on the Rebel base on Yavin IV!"

"Ah," breathed Vader. "They _are_ there , then? The Rebels _and_ the _Millennium Falcon?" _He felt a surge of excitement inside him. At last!

"Yes," replied Tarkin. "Our spies have confirmed intense Rebel activity in and around the Yavin system, particularly on Yavin IV. The Rebels are believed to be hiding deep in the ruins of the Ancients, using those ruins to camouflage their base. Now that you have returned, the Emperor has ordered us to move the Death Star into position for a strategic attack. When we finish, the planet will, like Alderaan, cease to exist. And the Rebels will share its fate." Tarkin allowed himself a tightlipped smile.

"And so the Rebellion will at last be at an end and there will again be peace in the Galaxy. My Master _will_ be pleased!" Vader made a mental note to somehow lure young Luke off the planet. No way that Vader was going to let the boy perish if he could possibly be his own son! Too bad about the Princess, but, as Bail Organa's daughter, she'd be a focus for any remaining Rebels in the Galaxy -- too dangerous to let live. He had begun to like the girl -- she had enough spirit and resourcefulness to make any father proud. But she was a Rebel. Oh, well. Vader mentally abandoned the Princess to her ultimate fate and concentrated on how to lure his presumed son to a position of relative safety.

The Death Star entered the Yavin system and began its progress toward the fourth planet, to an ultimate position where it could directly target the Rebel base on that planet. Tarkin and Vader knew that the Rebels were fully aware of the Empire's intentions, and were desperately searching for a way to stop the Death Star before they were themselves annihilated.

Meanwhile, Vader had been unable to think of any way to lure Luke off the surface of Yavin IV. Everything he thought of was, ultimately, ridiculous and impossible to implement. After all, he couldn't just send a message down saying _Luke, come up here, I want to talk to you and, by the __way, save your ass when Yavin IV gets blown into a new asteroid belt. (signed) D. Vader. _Too bad; luring one insignificant Rebel from among many should **not **be all that hard to arrange...!

* * *

Fully aware of Vader's frustrated concerns, Sidious was himself unconcerned. He sensed that the boy's future lay with Vader, that he would survive the destruction at Yavin IV. And if he was somehow mistaken in interpreting his senses (which Sidious refused to even _consider_) well, so be it. There was always cloning; he would just have to put up with Vader awhile longer than he had anticipated. He absently scratched at his side as he contemplated how to further torment his hapless apprentice. He had thoroughly enjoyed Vader's reluctance to go to Naboo, but then Vader had the nerve to make the most of his stay there, and had successfully avoided contact. The reception in Theed had been timed so exactly for Palpatine's needs... But Vader had even managed his emotions at _that_! 

Sipping from his wineglass, Sidious mused. Was he losing control over his apprentice? Or was Vader just growing more skilled at masking his thoughts and emotions? The likelihood of either possibility did not please the Emperor. He called for a refill of his glass, then continued to sip while he thought about his options.

* * *

The bulky behemoth rounded the planet, jockeying inexorably into a position where its full destructive force could be aimed directly at the Rebel base. Like gnats, the Rebels, in tiny X and Y -wing fighters, flew to meet it. Tarkin smiled. _Inconsequential! What can they do against __this, the Empire's ultimate weapon? They are just the Rebellion's final gasp of bravado. _He watched the viewscreen intently_. Strange. They apparently have a specific target in mind, aren't __attacking at random. No matter. The Death Star is invincible! This will be the culmination of __my career, the highlight of twenty years of dedication! _Absently, he noticed Vader suddenly turn to leave, nodded in farewell. 

"Bring my ship!" Vader ordered. "They are too small and quick for our fixed weapons. We must destroy them ship to ship!" He hurried from the Command Center.

In his ship, Vader suddenly felt... _alive. _Memories of other times assailed him -- the Clone War and Outer Rim Sieges, the rescue of the Chancellor from General Grievous, the excitement of the moment. This was so much better than avoiding asteroids! _And now the fun begins! _He briefly recalled saying something similar in another time, another life. He laughed in sheer exhilaration. With his two wingmen, he began to target X- and Y- wing fighters at random.

Gradually he began to sense a presence among the Rebel ships. _By the Force, what is Obi- Wan's ghostly presence doing out here? Does it mean that Luke is one of the elusive Rebel pilots? Well, at least that means he is finally off the surface of Yavin IV! _Using his feelings, Vader searched the Rebel fighters, at last settling on one particular small X-wing. _Ah yes! That_ _**is** Obi-__Wan's young new padawan learner. Too bad his Jedi apprenticeship has been cut short, but it will make turning him to the Dark Side just that much easier..._

Feigning attacks on Luke's fighter, Vader protected him from destruction by other Imperial Tie fighters. "This one is mine!" He warned off the others and continued to harass Luke. _Oh, but the Force is strong in you, Boy. You will make a powerful Sith when your training is complete. And __together..._He aimed a few shots carefully in Luke's direction, missing him by the merest fraction, finally disabling the vaguely familiar astrodroid...

He followed Luke into the canyon-like depression, riding right on his tail. _Luke, where are you going? What is your target? _In his mind, he heard Obi-Wan caution Luke to "use the Force." With sudden clarity, he knew the target, _felt_ the danger to the Death Star. At the same moment, one of his wingmen exploded and the other crashed, as the _Millennium Falcon _swooped overhead, running interference for Luke's fighter.

And in angry dismay, Vader realized that his own fighter was out of control, that he had lost some vital stabilizing mechanism. He turned his full attention to regaining control -- _any_ control -- and hit the distress beacon. His fighter continued to spiral, but at least now he was headed _away_ from the Death Star. He _knew_ what would happen. _Evacuate Tarkin, _his mind screamed, _Evacuate before it's too late!_

Vader had a front row seat to the destruction.


	9. Eight

Title: Vader's Quest Chronicles

Summary: Darth Vader learns that he has a son and the search begins

Chapter 8

Timeframe: Beginning between ROTS and ANH

Disclaimer: Star Wars is the property of George Lucas. No disrespect is intended with this story.

* * *

As the Tie fighter continued to spin, out of control, Vader alternately muttered curses and prayers. Finally he achieved a modicum of control -- at least, he had stopped the dizzy spiraling. He calmly assessed his options: Sit here and let himself be captured by the Rebels -- not an enticing prospect, as they would probably prefer him dead, rather than alive -- or try to make some sort of limping progress out of the system; without a hyper-drive it would be agonizingly slow. His third option was to hope that an Empire ship would soon pick up his distress beacon. Although he would at this point accept aid from smugglers, pirates, bounty hunters, _anyone_ --including Rebels not bent on his immediate demise. His Tie fighter was small, cramped, and without _any_ amenities of food, water, or extra oxygen. Without a rescue, fairly soon, his diet was going to become extremely restricted and his air supply nonexistent. To be blunt, he was looking a little too closely into the eyes of Death, but at least this time they weren't reflecting the blood red of burning lava... No, this time, Death's eyes were cold and black and fathomless... 

Resolving to make the best of a really _bad_ situation, Vader made sure that his minimal life support system was still functioning, that the beacon was broadcasting its distress signal, and that he was moving, albeit slowly. Thus assured, he closed his eyes to meditate and doze.

_Well, Anakin, you've really done it this time! How do you get yourself into these situations?_

Vader opened his eyes. He heard Obi-Wan's voice in his mind, saw his faint hazy image outside. _Obi-Wan. If you can't help me, go away! And you used to get into some bad situations yourself -- like that business on Cato Neimoidia..._

_Anakin, you promised you would never mention that again! Besides, we agreed that it doesn't count!_

_If I remember rightly, my old Master, **I** got **you **out of that one. So you owe me. Can't you do anything to help? Get into someone's mind? Let someone -- **anyone! **-- know that I'm out here! Please? And soon. Otherwise, I'm going to die out here. And Obi- Wan, try to remember that I'm Vader now..._

The hazy image smiled and nodded, gave a short salute, and disappeared.

Vader sighed. Hunger growled within him, thirst had already stuffed his mouth with cotton; the depleting oxygen constricted his breathing and threatened an asthma attack. He stared out at the empty void. A nap would be preferable to this. In resignation, he closed his eyes again.

_Well, my angel, my love, I may be joining you, a lot sooner than I expected. _Although he half expected to feel _something_ of his wife's spirit, there was nothing. _Oh well_, he thought, _maybe I __don't deserve to sense her spirit. She was an angel, beautiful, kind, lovingAnd 1... I was an __arrogant know-it-all bantha's ass who refused to hear the truth. I am so sorry, Beloved. Perhaps, if I couId do it all over... _Vader let himself fall asleep. He dreamt of space angels who looked like his wife, smelled like the wildflowers of Naboo, and laughed with the tinkling sound of wind chimes in a summer breeze.

The tinkling laughter segued into the harsh braying of Sidious and then to the infernal clanging of alarms as Vader started awake. _What the...? _He tried to look around. _Curse this helmet and __mask! I can't see above or behind, but I sense something... _Steady movement upward began and then he saw the ship overhead. He didn't recognize the model or markings, but a rescue was a rescue. And if his rescuers were unfriendly, a bit of Sith mind control should ease the hostilities. Vader sat back to await developments, as a tractor beam pulled him in. Perhaps this wasn't his day to die after all.

Vader's new acquaintances were appropriately impressed that _they_ had rescued the infamous Darth Vader. No doubt, it would become the stuff of legends -- the sole survivor (if you discounted the Rebels) of the cataclysmic explosion of the Empire's ultimate weapon. Vader grimaced to himself. In one incarnation or another, he was beginning to have a starring role in far too many legends for the comfort of even his enormous ego.

No shower, no soap, not even any deodorant. These pirates _were_ barbarians! Vader downed still another glassful of some sort of beverage. Nonalcoholic, Force be praised, but of undetermined origin. Vader thought that perhaps he would rather not be enlightened -- it was wet and eased his still raging thirst. He glanced down at the platter in front of him -- steamy hot vegetables and a large hunk of chewy bread. Suspicious of its origins, he had firmly refused the proffered meat. He thought he would rather remain vegetarian for the short time he'd be among his rescuers... cannibalism seemed a likely possibility, and the thought turned his stomach.

At least they didn't mind looking at his scarred face and bald head -- most of these pirates looked far worse with plasma bums and missing digits rampant among them. Vader took a bite and chewed. If only they had bathing facilities But they had laughed uproariously at the suggestion. Rank body odor permeated the entire ship; even the filtration system which recirculated its atmosphere wasn't up to the task. Trying not to breathe too deeply, Vader ate rapidly, then resumed his mask and respirator. The odor remained detectable, but became almost bearable. However, it was going to be a long few days before they reached a system where they could part company.

* * *

Darth Sidious pondered his senses. Lord Vader _was_ alive -- he could sense that much. But the whereabouts of his apprentice remained a mystery. And that disturbed the Sith Master. _Why _couldn't he locate Vader? Certainly, he wasn't losing his powers...was he? Sidious firmly dismissed the faint uneasiness, the ripple of fear within himself. He was still more powerful than anyone in the Galaxy! Well, except for Vader, if he were allowed his full potential-- which Sidious was careful not to do. And that young son of Skywalker -- his powers were rapidly developing; they would easily soon surpass the father. But where was Vader? He let his fears and frustrations surface in angry petulance, harassing his bodyguards and companions, seeking solace in too many glasses of vintage wine. What was the problem? Why, he'd sensed Vader's danger on Mustafar almost before Vader himself had actually faced it! So why could he not get a sense of Vader's location? He brooded and sipped from his glass.

* * *

Despite his olfactory distress and the continued feeling of desperately needing a shower, Vader was enjoying himself immensely. First of all, there was _no_ comlink to old Palpy. Second, he was relatively safe, although among what were assuredly ruthless pirates; he had hinted at rewards for his rescue -- for once, he intended to carry through on a promise given under duress, as he was _very_ grateful for being saved from certain and uncomfortably slow death in the cold vastness of space. While he didn't think being blown to bits, as Tarkin had been, was exactly _comfortable_, it hadn't been slow. Wil had probably never even known what happened, not to himself, not to the Death Star. Just pffttt! and he was gone. Whereas what Vader had faced --! He shuddered in memory. He could certainly handle a little discomfort now! 

He entertained his hosts with rousing tales of his own nefarious deeds as a Sith lord and with scurrilous characterizations of the Emperor. As long as he kept to the bread and the vegetables, the food was hot and plentiful, and the mystery beverage free-flowing. He was warm, safe, well fed, and rehydrated. He masked his Force presence by refraining from casual use -- might as well keep old Palpy off-balance for awhile --let him feel Vader's life-force, but not enough to sense his location. It gave Vader a delicious sense of power over the tyrannical old sarlacc's spawn.

As all things must, Vader's isolation from the Empire ended. He and his new friends parted company on a small Outer Rim world with tenuous ties to the Empire. Prototype or not, Vader let them keep the Tie fighter -- he'd tell Palpy' that he had crashed in it -- and arranged payment of substantial credits from his personal accounts. Amid a few hearty backslaps and much raucous laughter, Vader said good-bye. Then he sought plentiful soap and water and clean clothing to replace the filthy things he wore.

As the much-feared right hand to the Emperor, Vader had no trouble finding suitable accommodations. He suspected that someone had been evicted to provide space, but didn't really care. There was a bed, plenty of soap and hot water, and, miracle of miracles, access to clean new appropriate clothing. He stripped off his offending apparel and, armed with the soap, stepped under the spray of the shower.. He closed his eyes and smiled in real pleasure as the stinging spray of steamy hot water hit him. _Aaaah, clean again, at last._

Many long and enjoyable minutes later, he left the shower, stretched and yawned. The bed beckoned -- his Master could just remain in ignorance for awhile longer; Vader wanted a good long nap, without worrying that an overly zealous pirate would slit his throat while he slept. A smile of satisfaction on his face, Vader lay down and immediately fell asleep.

When he awakened, he knew he had dreamed something pleasant, but the tenuous memory slipped rapidly away. He stretched in languorous pleasure and looked around the room. Not bad. He smiled and resolved to play truant a bit longer -- although that credit transfer might sink his plans, if Palpy learned of the transaction too soon. But it was worth a chance. He stood up, crossed to the room service terminal and ordered a substantial breakfast.

The meal arrived shortly, delivered not by the expected droid, but by a nubile young woman, who apparently thought that her... personal... service was a part of the room service order. _What in blazes buttons did I press to convey that impression? Or is it SOP with the deluxe breakfast? _She didn't seem to understand that she was unwelcome in Vader's room, but smiled coyly and began sauntering suggestively across the room, discarding her clothing and writhing her hips provocatively. She slowly unfastened her top, releasing a pair of enormous breasts.

Feeling suddenly warm -- something must be wrong with the room's temperature controls --Vader stared a moment, then sat and buried his face in his hands. _Nooooo! I have to stop her, but howshort of hurting her_...? He glanced up just as the final articles of her clothing followed her blouse, and he was confronted with a _totally_ naked woman, slinking toward him, her intentions obvious. He gulped. If Palpy learned about this, there really _would_ be repercussions! If an idle, joking reference could cause trouble, the outcome from this situation boggled his imagination! _Aha! A little Sith mind control... that's it!_

He passed a hand through the air. "You really don't want to do this."

"I really don't want to do this." She obediently repeated his words and slowed her steps.

"You want to take your clothes and leave this room..."

"I want to take my clothes and leave this room..." She began to gather her things, then turned, still naked, toward the door.

Vader had a sudden thought and made another quick hand pass, as he suggested, "... But you want to get dressed first."

"I want to get dressed first..." She donned her skimpy garments and left Vader's room.

As the door closed behind her, Vader sighed in relief. Then he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. _Oh bantha spit! No wonder she didn't believe my protests --I'm totally naked myself! _He peered more closely at his reflection, then, as he noticed something else -- a not-so-small involuntary response to the proffered feminine charms. _So Palpy lied to me about that, too! No wonder he worries so much about little Vaders littering the Galaxy! Apparently I am still able, __even if I don't reaI1y desire anyone but Padme. Interesting... _He abruptly turned to the refresher -- he needed another shower, a _cold_ one this time. And then he planned to eat that breakfast, whether it had gotten cold or not, he was hungry!

Wanting to avoid a repetition of the embarrassing breakfast incident, Vader vowed to order all future meals in person. But then, if he had to dress and go out, the Emperor would soon trace his whereabouts. He sighed in resignation. As much as he wanted to play truant, he had better make contact and rejoin his crew aboard the Star Destroyer, assuming that it had been far enough from the Death Star to avoid annihilation. He successfully contacted the Executor which dispatched the requested transportation. He then sent a message to Coruscant, apprising Palpatine of his safety and promising to report in person as soon as possible. And then, it would be business as usual. Only with no Death Star and no Tarkin, there would be differences in the usual business.

And he still had to locate his elusive son. That boy was more slippery than snake's slime! He and his Rebel friends couldn't hide forever, not from someone as powerful with the Force as Darth Vader. He could feel it -- their paths would cross again -- and next time... Meanwhile, he lived in a real world; it was time to get back to it. Vader found a med-tech journal to pass the time until his shuttle arrived. He certainly didn't want to read Galactic Man's World or Gorgeous Girls of the Galaxy -- he'd had quite enough of strange naked women for one day!


	10. Nine

Title: Vader's Quest Chronicles

Summary: Darth Vader learns that he has a son and the search begins

Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Star Wars is the property of George Lucas. No disrespect is intended with this story.

* * *

Preparing to report to Palpatine, Vader luxuriated in the carefully adjusted spray of his own shower. He kept temperature and spray set exactly as he liked them. He recalled marveling at the bathing facilities of the Jedi Temple, but even there, the shower had never been quite right -- and mid-shower some prankster would likely switch the temperature setting to cold -- he'd played that one himself a few times. In Padmé's apartment... well, the intent there had usually not been just for cleanliness. 

She had loved the water, and had enjoyed their watery games as much as he had! Suffice to say, he had learned to appreciate water and just how wonderful it was to feel really clean, to _smell _clean. He must admit, though, there had been times... Even now, he was often extremely grateful for the presence of his respirator with its filters, when in company with others, such as those pirates -- or even Palpatine! -- who were less finicking about personal hygiene. He might be intimidating, but at least they wouldn't smell him coming!

Drying off carefully, he surveyed his reflection. Flat stomach, rippling chest muscles (still quite a bit of scarring there, despite the best efforts to minimize them), even the bionic prosthetics weren't bad, much better than those clunky first ones. He doubted that Palpatine would ever have sanctioned replacements without his mishaps with the Sith lightning! His second set had been a vast improvement over the first. This was his third full set of replacements, and were light-years beyond that first mechanical hand. These were lighter in weight and looked and felt much more real. And the state-of-the-art ones that he'd read were now available. Should he maybe chance a little Sith lightning and get another set of replacements? No, he'd save that for when he became Emperor -- then he would have the very best bionics in the Galaxy. And he wouldn't have to scheme to get them!

He ran a hand across his head -- he really ought to shave it again. His once luxuriant blond locks had never really grown back, but it was just as well -- what did grow had kept getting caught in his helmet, until he gave up and shaved his head. It didn't look quite as good on him as it had on Mace Windu, but no one ever saw it anyway. And while his seeming inability to grow much of a beard had secretly chagrined his youthful self, he was thankful now -- he didn't have a beard getting in the way of his respirator! The eyebrows had grown back nicely, and there was quite a lot of hair on his upper lip -- it was going to eventually be quite a dapper mustache. A satisfied murmur escaped him. Yes, Vader, you are a fine figure of a man now!

As he dressed, he idly wondered about the formerly vain Palpatine. Ostensibly a native of Naboo, he had once seemed to share the Naboo obsession with water and cleanliness. But since the revelation of his alter ego as Darth Sidious and the incredible deterioration in his personal appearanceVader's nose twitched in memory. Personal hygiene was no longer very high on old Palpy's list of priorities, if it even figured there at all. And not just his body; his clothing was at times barely presentable, it looked bad and smelled worse. Vader dreaded the upcoming interview. He made certain that his respirator was functioning and that fresh filters were firmly in place.

Time to go. He cast a last approving glance at his image and positioned his lightsaber at his belt as he left his quarters.

Approaching the Imperial Council Chamber -- _a throne room by any other name_, thought Vader -he was met by one of Palpatine's ubiquitous bodyguards.

"Welcome back. Lord Vader. We are delighted that you escaped and have returned safely. He is expecting you. However, it will be a few minutes more before he is ready to receive you." The man chuckled conspiratorially. "We have convinced him that a...uh... a Ritual Cleansing was in order. "

Vader snorted in muffled laughter. "Am I to assume then that he has taken a _bath_? Well, will wonders never cease! And his clothing? A bath won't help much if he is wearing those... _rags. _Really, Nerak, I have seen _refugees_ with better wardrobes!"

"Also arranged, Lord Vader." Nerak chuckled again. "All new, richer, finer materials much more suitable for a Galactic Emperor, especially one who is a powerful Sith lord. We burned his old robes," he added in a lower voice. "The stench of their burning was almost unbearable!"

"Many thanks, Nerak. I was dreading this encounter. Tell me, though, did this ritual cleansing include a manicure and dental care?"

Nerak shook his head. "I am afraid not, milord. He would not allow anyone to touch his nails. And when we suggested that he seek the services of a dental droid, he turned stubborn and refused to even consider it. He has been drinking sparkling wine in celebration of your safe return."

_Oh, great_! Vader thought in resignation. _He's clean, but inebriated! I can't win. _To Nerak, he merely remarked, "Any excuse, I suppose. I'll keep my respirator on, then, or I'll soon be drunk on the fumes."

The doors opened just then and they entered the vastly overheated chamber. The Emperor was resplendent in his new attire. While they closely resembled his old robes of state, the new were of finer materials and workmanship, with some subtle embroideries and braiding. He waved a large and overflowing crystal goblet, blithely ignoring what sloshed over the rim.

Vader knelt, feeling an ominous creak in his knees as he did so. He _really_ wanted those new bionics! "Master, I await your commands."

Palpatine's free hand motioned him forward. "Lord Vader, my boy, come and join me. I was most concerned for your safety."

_I'll bet, Bantha Breath, but only as it concerned your own inconvenience_! Vader was not feeling very charitable toward his Master.

"Sit down." He patted the chair beside him, from which his aide obediently arose in order to make room. "Bring a glass for Lord Vader."

Vader gulped; he had known this day would eventually come. "No thank you, Sir. Surely you do remember that the med-droids have forbidden it for me? Perhaps some sparkling mineral water?"

"Nonsh-- nonsense --that was _years_ ago! Surely, a little bit won't hurt you! I command it!"

"No, Master, I really cannot -- my asthma -- I dare not! My breathing is much easier when I avoid drinking wine. The em-dees think an allergy to something in it, some ingredient common to all such beverages." Vader felt his Master's unbelieving stare upon him. _Old Palpy isn't buying __this, I knew he wouldn't; it'll have to be a battle of wills between us..._

Unexpectedly, Palpatine querulously capitulated. "Oh, all right, Lord Vader. Go away then, if you won't be sociable! Attend me tomorrow morning at breakfast to make your report." He downed his wine and held the glass for a refill.

"Very good, Sir." Vader made a cursory bow and turned to leave. Nerak accompanied him to the doors. _Well, so much for the new clothes. He probably already reeks like a winery_!

As if divining his thoughts, Nerak quietly murmured, "We took care to order several sets of everything. He'll never know they aren't the same"

As long as he took them off at night. Vader wasn't entirely sure that the senile old bantha's ass didn't usually sleep in them. Oh well, he would just have to trust that Nerak and his cohorts would see to it. Much as he now heartily despised his Master, he did not want _this_. Being the apprentice to a senile old fool was not Vader's idea of status. He had better locate his son and take over soon, or there would be no Empire left to rule -- and he was beginning to wonder if he really cared. Had the alcohol merely pickled Palpy's brain cells, or were his immense Sith powers short circuiting his intelligence? He certainly couldn't last much longer, at this rate! Not for the first time, Vader wondered just how old Palpatine _really_ was -- he had once claimed to be that infamous apprentice who killed Darth Plagueis of Sith legend. If true, he must, like Yoda, count his years in the hundreds.

Reaching the doors, Vader beat a hasty retreat. Sweat trickled down his back. He was going to need another shower.

* * *

The report was not going well. Vader suspected that Palpy had a hangover -- he was cranky and vicious; his bad temper kept all around him uneasy and fearful of reprisals for minor infractions. And Vader's supposed infractions were far from minor. In the Emperor's mind, Vader has lost both the Death Star and a prototype Tie fighter. This couldn't get much worse. Vader carefully refrained from revealing just which Rebel had actually fired the shot that set off the explosion. Somehow, he didn't think that Palpy would react well to _that_ news. Besides, although Vader was certain that it had been his son in that Rebel X-wing, he had no absolute proof, other than that intense _feeling_ of the Force surrounding the boy. Best to leave well enough alone... 

Perhaps Palpatine's hangover was easing, or else his displays of temper were soothing him. He abruptly moderated his diatribe on Vader's part in the destruction of the Death Star.

"Well, my young apprentice," Vader cringed; Force knew, he was nearly middle aged! "You are safe. We must be thankful of that. Are you _positive_ you could not have done more to protect the Death Star?" Vader sighed in exasperation. Palpatine ignored him. "How small Rebel X- and Y wing fighters could have destroyed it... That is being analyzed as we speak. There _must_ have been some design flaw that was overlooked. If the Rebels could find it, so shall we! Although if you had retrieved the plans in the first place..." He looked at Vader in accusation.

"Yes, Master, I understand. But the Princess was unaccountably resistant to our standard interrogation procedures. Even the destruction of her home planet of Alderaan failed to loosen her tongue." Vader thought privately that Palpy would have had no more luck with Leia than he and Tarkin had -- he would probably ended up rendering her incoherent and mindless, if not dead, with his infernal Sith lightning -- that was ever the method favored by Sidious. He never seemed to learn that Sith lightning didn't really _help_. Instead, it usually left the subject useless for any further interrogation procedures.

Palpatine finally let that subject drop. But he had another complaint against Vader. "And losing your fighter -- that was totally irresponsible, Lord Vader! It was a new design, a prototype. You were to analyze and report on it. Instead, you managed to _lose_ it!"

"Uh... Sir? Master? I _crashed_! It _did_ save me. I can still report on its handling and how well the design works. But I didn't just _lose_ it!" _No, I gave it away to my rescuers, as a part of their reward for saving me. It was worth it! Hopefully, they will cut it up and sell the pieces for scrap -may. the Force be with me if it ever resurfaces whole..._

Palpatine hadn't finished with him just yet. He continued his harangue for some time, eventually repeating allegations and complaints. Vader patiently waited for him to run down; It would accomplish little to interrupt or attempt further defense of himself. The Emperor was on a roll, apparently enthralled by the sound of his own voice. At least Vader wasn't kneeling. Since it had been a breakfast meeting, he was seated across the table from his Sith Master. He hadn't eaten much, either, anxiety having dulled his usually hearty morning appetite. Palpy hadn't eaten at all -- _he must have the mother of all hangovers_! Vader thought, recalling his own past experiences, _and is consuming more than a little of the hair of the bantha_.

Once again, Palpatine changed the subject, so suddenly that he startled Vader. "The Princess... Leia Organa. Did you find her beautiful? Soulful brown eyes... soft voice... seductive smile..."

Palpy's voice trailed off as he peered across the table at his apprentice.

_Who the blazes is he describing? Leia the curse mistress? Princess Foul Mouth? _Vader, with difficulty, suppressed a snort of laughter. "Not especially, Master. I suppose she is pleasant to look at and is intelligent." _She'd have to be to remember all those curses! _"She's... uh... petite, and her eyes are brown, but they were usually angry and her smile was nonexistent. She didn't really appeal to my senses. And she certainly wasn't inclined to regard me with any favor, either!" _And if you could have heard what she called me --. Well, he ought to at least be convinced now that I am not interested in the girl..._

"But Lord Vader, I thought you favored petite brunette women -- your wife was such a one. The Princess was even a Senator -- that is, until she openly joined the Rebels, and I dissolved the Senate. Are you _certain_...?"

Vader's patience was wearing thin. _The man has to be out of his mind! Look at Leia like that? Even the idea feels somewhat incestuous...! _"Master! She is a mere child! And I am not looking for a romantic liaison with _anyone. _Yes, the Princess does _slightly_ remind me of Padme, but so does any girl who has brown eyes and is a small brunette! She just touches a chord of memory. My feelings toward Leia Organa are more... well, more ambivalent than anything."

Palpatine smirked in satisfaction. "Goood, good. Just so you are clear in your feelings there. Do you think she could have any Force capability? Could she be turned toward favoring the Dark Side? Does she seem to favor... um... _older_ men?"

_Just what does Palpatine have in mind? Does the randy old bantha have the hots for Leia? _The thought amused Vader. He filed it away, and replied to his Master's questions. "Force capability? I never thought about it. Favor the Dark Side? Probably not -- she is as stubborn and committed to her cause as any other Rebel. And favoring older men? I really would have no clue. I personally found her arrogant." Vader wanted out of this discussion; his suspicions of Palpy's intentions were causing too much inner mirth to keep hidden for much longer.

"And now, Sir, I really must ask that you excuse me? I have appointments with the em-dees to determine how my health fared during my recent ordeal in space. Of course, if you prefer that I cancel... ?"

"Go! Go then, if you must, my boy. We will continue this conversation later." He waved his dismissal.

With alacrity, Vader left, before he burst into inappropriate laughter. His overactive imagination was supplying him with too many ludicrous scenarios featuring old Palpy and Princess Foul Mouth. Reaching the comparative privacy of his sometime office, Vader dissolved into helpless laughter. At least the security recordings would only show the laughter and not the reason for it. That girl had provided him with a tremendous amount of humorous amusement since her initial capture. Palpy and Leia? Taken seriously, the thought was more than slightly revolting. He doubted Leia would react very favorably to advances by the Emperor. In fact, her reaction would probably get her a dose of Palpatine's favorite form of reprisal -- Sith lightning. At the rate he had been throwing _that_ around lately, he probably could have powered up a Star Destroyer or two!

In the midst of his laughter, an unwelcome thought crossed Vader's mind. Leia did have a minor passing resemblance to Padme. Perhaps therein lay the key to Palpatine's unaccountable sudden dislike --of Padme -- had the old lecher made advances and been rejected? That certainly would explain a lot of things for Vader. Though occasionally jealous of his wife's male acquaintances, he had never seriously questioned her fidelity and love for himself. And if she had rejected Palpy -- well then, no wonder Palpatine had suddenly turned against her and had attempted to drive a wedge between them. Vader's laughter abruptly ceased, replaced by burning anger at his Master. _Someday_, he vowed, _someday I will repay you for ruining my life. Then I will be Master and you -- you will be dead_! He allowed the anger to feed his power, allowed it to wash over him in a pleasurable wave.

He actually did have a medical appointment. Poking, prodding, bright lights and mysterious instruments of torture -- er -- examination -- Vader _hated_ it. But he did need to have his health thoroughly assessed. So he endured the torturous indignities of the procedures with unusual patience. The creaky knees were as yet nothing to worry about, but they would be in need of replacement within the foreseeable future, just not soon enough to suit Vader. He reluctantly accepted that news. His heart had apparently healed far beyond the need for any mechanical assistance -- a quick procedure and the tiny inactive pacemaker was permanently removed, taking with it a source of secret anxiety: Vader need no longer fear that some stray bolt of Palpy's Sith lightning would upset the pacemaker and send him into cardiac arrest, as had happened once many years ago. He smiled in relief. Now about his lungs...

The lungs were surprisingly clear and seemed to be functioning far better than had ever been expected; his asthmatic wheezing was no longer noticeable. What had Lord Vader been doing --or not doing -- for such remarkable improvement? Just the opening Vader needed for his question: could there be a connection between asthma and the consumption of wine and other beverages containing alcohol?

"Oh certainly!" agreed the med-droid. "There is a possible connection between them. For some persons, a component, possibly the alcohol itself, exacerbates the condition with an allergic reaction, leading to an asthma attack. Had Lord Vader...?"

Vader hurried to deny any recent indulgence in alcohol, and admitted that the abatement of his symptoms had prompted his question. He would appreciate documentation in his medical recordsHe left it at that, and the em-dee agreed to note the possible connection in Vader's records.

Vader left the medical facility assured that his statements to Palpy were now covered, as his records would certainly be accessed as soon as the Emperor received notice that Vader had, indeed, visited the facility for a physical.. Darth Sidious was not one to respect the personal privacy of his apprentice.

And now, back to his own office to perform a task that he hated with a passion -- filling out forms and filing reports. The fine print was getting smaller and the print quality fainter. Palpy's budget cuts were much like sand, showing up everywhere. He hoped he could get back into space aboard a Star Destroyer -- and _soon._ At this rate, he would assuredly go blind before long! He picked up a datapad, and, with a deep sigh of resignation, began reading.


	11. Ten

Title: Vader's Quest Chronicles

Summary: Darth Vader learns that he has a son and the search begins

Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Star Wars is the property of George Lucas. No disrespect is intended with this story.

* * *

The Imperial shuttle settled gently into a perfect landing; a satisfied sigh escaped the pilot. _Ah, yes, Vader, you still have it! That was a first rate landing, even if I do say so myself, and even if it is on the planet I swore never to revisit. Now if only this errand makes it a worthwhile trip... _He was investigating the validity of a claim made for the reward Palpy had posted, hoping to find the remains of Vader's TIE fighter, an advanced experimental model known as the TIE-AXl. Vader hadn't recognized the name of his contact, but the model and registration numbers matched those from that thrice cursed fighter he'd let his pirate rescuers keep. Therefore, he was almost certain that this rendezvous would be with Jetscar and his cohorts. Spying the approach of what was certainly his contact, Vader stood to leave the shuttle. At the entrance, he hesitated. _With thousands -- no, millions! -- of worlds to choose from, why the bloody blue blazes did Jett have to choose **Tatooine**? _Vader had sworn that he would **never: **set foot here again, and yet here he was. A deep breath and he strode out onto the sandy surface of his despised home world. 

Jetscar's enthusiasm was at its usual overflowing level. "Vader! My man! Good to see you, good to see you!" He enveloped Vader in a backslapping bear hug.

Vader reciprocated, although a bit awkwardly; this type of camaraderie was new to him; he found himself liking it. "Jett. How are you? I had a feeling that I'd be meeting you here…"

Jetscar's laugh matched his outgoing personality, and boomed about the landing pad. "Feeling, huh? Well, of course you did, you being a Sith lord and all. I figured that you'd see through the alias, but you understand how it is."

"No problem there, Jett, but why _here_? Why choose this Force-forsaken endless sea of _sand_?"

Jetscar glanced cautiously around, then answered in a quieter tone. "Well, I used to live here, back when I was a kid. Ran away when my mother died. Since I had always seemed to be in trouble, anyway, my Old Man washed his hands of me; gave out that I had died, too. Old Cliegg was a _hard_ man, though I guess I _was_ a pretty wild kid, always sneaking off to watch pod races or hobnobbing with smugglers and such at the spaceport; moisture farming bored me to death! The Old Man could have just disowned me, but, no, not old Cliegg! He even told my kid brother that I was dead!"

Vader was getting a rather funny feeling about Jett's story; tenuous connections formed in his mind -- Cliegg? -- wife died? --kid brother? -- He ventured a discreet question -- just what was Jetscar's actual given name? He knew it probably wasn't Jetscar...

"Oh, no! I _never_ tell anyone my given name, any more than you do, Vader, but my family name... now that is 'Lars' -- Why? What's it matter?" The pirate shook his head. "I used to wonder what happened to the kid; he was always the 'good son' so I guess he did OK -- I heard that the Old Man _bought_ himself a new wife from some Toydarian junk dealer in Mos Espa -- just shows what kind of a man _he_ wasAt least poor little Owen had a mother figure for awhile... Hope she was good to him."

Vader was having trouble believing this! If his suspicions were correct, he had found a second, previously unknown, stepbrother in Jetscar Lars. That made Jett's unknown stepmother none other than Shmi Skywalker Lars! Yes, she would have been good to Owen, and the boy had loved her in return. He quietly said to Jett, "I'm sure she was, Jett. So your reasons for choosing this hellhole of a planet were entirely... personal?"

"Yeah, Vader. Thought maybe I could go out to the old homestead, visit Ma's grave, spit on the Old Man's... maybe reintroduce myself to Baby Bro. Want to come along? Meet Owen? Been about thirty years since I've seen him -- he probably won't believe that I'm his long-lost big brother."

Vader had good reason to know that his pirate friend couldn't hold any family reunions, not in this life, anyway. He certainly wasn't going to volunteer that information, though. "Don't think so, Jett. I'm not all that fond of Tatooine; I'll just stay here and meditate while you're gone, figure out what to do about the TIE-AXl. After all, I did tell the Emperor that I had crashed it, so its present excellent condition sort of blows my story."

Jetscar's booming laugh reverberated in the relatively enclosed space between their ships. "I can see you might have a problem, there, Bro. But what you got against Tatooine, old buddy? It's not all that bad, hot and dry and the sand is annoying, but you get used to it. "

_Yeah, sure, and Mustafar produces glaciers! _He'd spent more than twenty years trying to totally erase Tatooine from memory, and the ten before that trying not to recall anything of it except his mother... His mother... He reached a sudden decision. "If you don't mind, maybe I will go with you, after all, Jett. Why don't you let me fly you out there, and I can stay in the shuttle, wait for you…." There was absolutely no way that he would actually go near Shmi's grave; that mute testimony to his failure would surely bring out Anakin. Aboard the shuttle Vader could at least contain his other self's reactions...

"Hey, yeah! That's real human of you, Vader. It's way over by Mos Eisley and Anchorhead. Think you can find it?" Jett liked the idea of company on his pilgrimage.

"Oh yes, my friend, I will find it." Despite his best efforts to the contrary, Vader would never forget... not the homestead... not the camp of the Tuskens... not bringing poor Shmi's body home to Cliegg for burial. "Get aboard. It won't take us long." He gritted his teeth, trying to hold back the aching influx of Anakin's memories.

During the short hop, Jetscar waxed eloquent about his family. "I heard that Owen and his wife never had kids of their own, though they did raise some orphan kid, probably a relative; even as a little boy, Owen had a strong sense of family responsibility. You got any kids, Vader?"

Vader admitted that he had a son, raised by one of Vader's own stepbrothers. "My wife died, I couldn't raise a kid, not with my job." _Yeah, right! A ruthless Sith lord, scourge _of _the Galaxy, trying to play daddy _-- _that would be a laugh, although a very bitter one, especially with Palpatine __in the picture, trying to steep him in evil from the get-go. _"Anyway, we're ... um... estranged and out of touch right now. He thinks he's a Jedi and is out running around the Galaxy, playing Rebel. Imagine, _my_ son -- a Rebel! I can deal with the Jedi part, but a Rebel against my Empire…."

Jett agreed that kids could be a royal pain. "I got three -- you've met my boys, they're part of my crew. Got a girl, too. Marsiella ran off with a gambler, left him for some guy worked for the Empire. Last I heard, Marsi was working on a spice freighter as a who-knows-what -- and I don't think I _want_ to know. At least, far as I know, she doesn't have any kids to be dragging around the Galaxy."

So Vader was an uncle -- well, step uncle. _Would I be Uncle Vader? Or Uncle Anakin? Come to think of it, Padme had had nieces... I've been an uncle all along! I do have family, but, except for my son, I can never dare claim any of them. And, if the Emperor ever learns of this particular __tidbit, I'll probably become bantha fodder in the most painful way imaginable!_

They reached the homestead. Even as disturbed as his thoughts were, Vader's instincts brought them in to a flawless landing. For the first time, he could see the shocking devastation wrought by the troopers of 'Vader's Fist' in their ruthless search for the droids He stared in numb silence; he'd observed, in callous disregard, other such scenes of their making, but none other had held the personal impact of _this_.

Jetscar's view was more pragmatic. "Looks like a Tusken's attack. Poor Owen. At least someone gave them a decent burial afterward." He rose. "I'll be back in a little while -- I'm going to the graves -- though maybe I won't spit on the Old Man's after all. Then I'll look around, see if it'd be worthwhile to clean things up -- guess it's mine now" He left Vader alone on the shuttle.

Vader absently nodded and continued to stare at the ruins. As he stared, he felt Anakin stir within his mind in response to the scene outside. _I'm so sorry, Mom. I know that your loving Owen and his father didn't lessen your love for me. And this... I didn't know, Mom! I didn't **know! **It's not __my fault... it's not! It's **not**! _And then, behind Vader's mask, Anakin's tears came... tears of grief and loss, tears of real mourning that he had not let himself shed at the time of Shmi's passing. With every tear, Anakin at last let go of the pain of losing his mother, allowed himself to let go of the anger, to remember only the happier memories, when he'd been very young and full of dreams...

Finally, Vader removed his mask and respirator, and wiped away the tears. He then attempted to force Anakin back into the recesses of his mind. But Anakin was empowered by the release of emotions and resisted. He and his alter ego began to argue, with Vader apparently talking to himself:

"Look, Anakin, I am in charge here; get back in there where you belong!"

He could hear Anakin's voice in his mind, but also heard himself saying the words. "Who is in charge? And excuse me, but this is my body; I was here first!"

"I'm a Sith lord! I am more powerful than you _ever_ were or ever could be!"

"Yeah, yeah. Big freaking deal!" jeered Anakin's voice. "_You_ are just the Emperor's _flunky_! I was Jedi -- the most powerful Jedi that ever lived... and I could have become more powerful still! Palpatine promised"

It was Vader's turn to jeer; "Yeah, right! Just look how well he keeps his promises! Do you know how to stop Death? Do I? For that matter, does he? Except for himself, that is. And even he…"

"Just give him time, help him find the answers."

"Padme is _dead_, Anakin. We couldn't save her, and _he_ didn't want to."

Anakin's voice hesitated. "Yeah, I sort of noticed that. But right now I am the one who is out here. You let me out and I am staying out. I'm sick of all the killing and terrorism -- it gives me nightmares!"

"It gives _you_ nightmares? What do you think I have? I'm just glad I can't remember them."

Anakin snickered. "Those sure haven't been nightmares lately! And anyway, Padme was _my_ wife, not yours, Mr. Big Shot Sith Lord; she loved _me_ -- _you_ killed her! You just reached out with you hand and squee --"

Vader interrupted. He had no desire to listen to his alter ego describe the scene which triggered his worst migraines. "Actually, Palpy has told so many lies that I'm not even so sure about that anymore. But you were there, too -- you could have stopped me!"

"As drunk on power as you were that night? You have to be kidding! Not even your precious Master could have stopped you! You just reached out -- "

"Anakin, **_shut_** **_up_**! I don't want to hear it! Obi-Wan stopped me. I dropped her, and she was breathing -- I heard her! This son I'm chasing is no phantom -- he is Padme's child, raised right here by Owen Lars."

"And you believed that old pile of bantha fodder? Our son? What makes you think he told the truth for once? Like that one about no longer being _able_ to have a sex life? And getting the emdees to back him up? How did you miss _noticing_ **- **_for_ _years_- that somebody had to be lying in that matter? And everyone always thought _I_ was naive about women! Well, Mr. Scourge of the Galaxy, you may be intimidating, but where women are concerned, _you_ are still without a clue! And you have had twenty-some years to figure it out…"

Anakin was nearly as annoying as Palpatine. Vader itched to retaliate, but Anakin's rebellion was preventing him from having the power to do more than use words. "Oh go do something anatomically impossible to yourself, and just shut up!"

Jett reentered the shuttle in the middle of the last exchange. He chuckled, but without his usual heartiness. "Hey Vader, old boy! Talking to yourself, huh? And answering, too, by the sounds of it. You sure sound drunk to me! Where you been keeping the hooch? Or did you already drink it all? Come on, man, I need a drink -- bad! Where's the nearest cantina?"

Startled, Anakin was the dominant personality, with Vader still struggling to regain control. "A drink? Right! Sounds good to me, Jett. Nothing to drink on this heap! Somebody who shall remain nameless doesn't believe in it anymore!" _(Come on, Anakin _-- _get real! We have to share __this body and if **I**_ _can't drink, then neither can_ _you.) _" We'll have to go over to Mos Eisley - there's sure to be a cantina or two there." With that, Anakin savagely lifted off; they were soon in a bar and ordering drinks.

_Anakin! you don't want to do_ _this! You'll undo years of my -- **our**-- hard-won sobriety! I can't __let you! I **won't **fail again! I **won't! **_The threat to his continuing battle against alcoholism gave Vader the extra power he needed to reassert himself. He finally suppressed Anakin again, cramming him firmly down into a tiny corner, and Vader was once more dominant. It had happened so rapidly that Jett never even noticed a difference. Vader suddenly pushed his drink over to Jett. "On second thought, Jett, you take mine too; I'm the designated pilot here. I'll have something nonalcoholic." He ordered fruit juice and mineral water. The bartender was inclined to sneer, until he realized with whom he was dealing. Then he brought out the very best water, no extra charge.

Jett laughed. "Already had enough, huh? Wish I'd known where you kept it -- I could have used a couple of shots before I looked over the old homestead." He sadly shook his head in memory, then abruptly downed both drinks and ordered another. "Vader, it was terrible -- nothing left whole, everything torn apart and destroyed, total wanton destruction! Owen and his family never had a chance. Those Tuskens are _animals_!"

_No arguments there, _thought Vader, _and 'Vader's Fist' can be deadly as well! _From deep within his tiny corner of Vader's mind, Anakin added, _but a grief-stricken young Jedi seeking vengeance can do_ _far worse...! _Aloud, he merely said, "I'm sorry, Jett."

Jetscar stood up. "Order us another round or two, Vader old buddy, old pal. I have to go... uh... you know... um, see a man about a bantha... back in a few." He headed unsteadily toward a discreet sign in the rear. When he returned, he looked considerably more cheerful. "I called my boys, they're coming out to join us; ought to be here in a little bit."

_Rrrright! _thought Vader. _A real family party. All it needs is for my son to walk through that door, with Jett's daughter and Padmé 's nieces._ The two men continued talking companionably as they waited, with Jett steadily tossing down one drink after another. Vader was impressed by the man's capacity -- the tab for tonight would be astronomical! _And it will have to go on my Imperial expense account. There will be no way to hide it from old Palpy. And he will think that I drank all this. Maybe I could lie... tell him that someone else accessed my account? After all, I did __swear many times that I would **never **revisit Tatooine. Yeah, right! I always was a rotten liar. __I'll just have to grin and bear it and hope that Palpy goes easy on me._

The 'boys' arrived. Vader vaguely remembered them -- they were every bit as big as their father, with an equally impressive capacity for strong drink, and were a quarrelsome pair. At some point late in the evening, Vader was forced to draw his light saber for aggressive mediation. The bartender quickly jumped into the fray.

"Hey! You! Sith lord! Don't care _who_ you are! Take that lightsaber outside. Last guy came in here with one of those left a real mess behind! So out!"

Vader laughed and arranged payment of the bar bill. He and the Lars boys managed to get a protesting Jetscar outside, where Jett promptly passed out. His sons hoisted him to his feet, bade Vader goodnight, and left to board their own ship.

Vader watched their drunken progress, then went aboard his own shuttle. He and Jett could deal with the TIE-AX1 tomorrow. He needed some sleep himself. And a shower to wash off this infinitely cursed sand -- he even had it in uncomfortably personal places! Yes, a hot shower and then sleep. He was mentally and emotionally exhausted.

Despite the emotional upheaval of the previous day, Vader's sleep remained nightmare-free. If he dreamed at all, he couldn't recall it and awoke refreshed. Overnight, though, he'd had an idea concerning the TIE-AX1 -- they could sell off most of its parts to junk dealers -- for those were still plentiful on Tatooine. Vader would take the registration plate and a key part or two back to the Emperor. Anything left could be discarded into space somewhere, maybe dropped onto an obscure planet -- the one where he claimed to have crashed -- what _was_ its name -- Vall -- Ball -- Baal -- Vaal! -- that was it -- that would probably be the best place, would add validity to the story that Palpy seemed to be having trouble believing Jetscar could deal with it; Vader sensed that he could rely on the man to follow through.

Jetscar agreed, and they spent the day carrying out the plan. Once they had finished, there was very little left to discard, and the pirates had a tidy sum for profit, in addition to the credits of the Imperial reward. Vader mangled and scorched his selected pieces to simulate crash damage, and stowed them aboard his shuttle. Then he bade his companions a hearty farewell, and returned to Coruscant.

* * *

The ever suspicious Emperor had a standing order for reports on any unusual activity in Vader's Imperial expense accounts. And this, thought the accountant, was unusual enough to warrant the Emperor's immediate attention. 

"He what? Charged that much in a bar? In one evening? And on Tatooine?" Palpatine was incredulous, First of all, what was Vader doing on Tatooine? He had sworn to never set foot there again. And in a _bar_? Vader claimed that he no longer drank alcohol, that it was medically prohibited. From the size of this bar bill, not only was he still drinking, but he had expanded his tolerance tenfold. He had consumed an incredible amount in one evening! Even allowing for a companion -- and women generally didn't drink much -- it was far more than the Emperor himself could ever drink. Anger at Vader for his blatant lies and deception quickly faded as Palpatine decided that drinking with his apprentice could now prove very dangerous. If the Master were to be overcome in Vader's presence….

After all, look what had happened to old Darth Plagueis when he let his guard down around _his_ apprentice -- thrummm-swish! Bye-bye, Plagueis. And so the apprentice became the Master by default. Palpatine would rather not risk it, preferred to err on the side of caution; he had no illusions about Vader's secret ambitions. _And just what woman had he been drinking with, anyway? Was Vader hanging out with prostitutes now? Did he imagine that he could father more_ _children? _Palpatine worried over that. His senses told him that there either was or would be another, in addition to the known son of Skywalker. And he had foreseen that a Skywalker would bring about his ending. Vader must _not_ father more children. But then, he couldn't, could he? Or was that just something he'd told Vader? The Emperor could no longer be sure -- the lies told to his apprentice were starting to run together, until they were indistinguishable from truth. But he had better locate this woman and just make certain...

* * *

"But, Master, there _was_-_no_-_woman_! Just the three men who found the remains of my TIE-AX1 on Vaal! Look -- here is the registration plate. _They_ chose the meeting place, not I!" Vader protested his Master's accusations. While he'd foreseen trouble over the big bill, he hadn't realized the full depths of Palpatines paranoia. _A woman? From what wine-induced vision had he gotten that idea?_

"Don't give me that, Vader! Don't play innocent with _me_, my young apprentice! I know that there was a woman-- why else would _you_ spend an evening drinking in a bar? And you have lied to me! You still consume alcohol! I knew you were lying! I knew it!" Palpatine was working himself into a fine paranoid frenzy.

Vader decided that acknowledging a fault might stem the tide of his Master's escalating fury. "I'm sorry, Master. I've been remiss. I'll try to do better" _There, I've apologized, but haven't really __admitted to anything at all! Used to work with Obi-Wan; let's see if it appeases this old..._

Stopped in mid-tirade, Palpatine changed course. He moderated his tone, and other than a few more querulous complaints over Vader's deception, he let the matter drop. However, Vader remained puzzled -- why was old Palpy suddenly so paranoid about any women in Vader's life? Unless you counted that room service delivery girl back on wherever, whose advances he'd spurned, and the Princess -- whom he hadn't seen in months, didn't attract him, and was far too young -- there were no women in Vader's life. And the one in his dreams was long dead. The man was losing it, he was definitely losing it!

Finally dismissed, Vader returned to his sometime office for more dreaded red tape and report filing. He couldn't read the fine print through his mask, and his arms needed to be longer to read without it. He adjusted the print size on the screen. It helped, but now things were a bit blurry and distorted and made his eyes ache. In disgust, he threw down the datapad, donned his mask, and went for a walk.

He descended to the street levels of the city. As he walked, he mused. The problem with his eyes was starting to irritate him. Whatever was wrong? He really hadn't noticed anything until the past few months, when he'd started having to handle so much official business. At first, he'd thought having an office of his own was cool; Padmé had had one and he'd been a smidge jealous. But now he was heartily sick of official documents and reports and even of signing his name, _'Vader', _in a big bold scrawl. Reading the reports made his eyes ache and his head throb and his temper short. He wanted to be out in space -- a luxurious office on the 297th floor with a wall of glass was _not_ the same at all! _I am an action man; I need to be out and away and **free**! Instead, here I am, stuck in an office, right under old Palpy's inquisitive nose, and going **blind **from reading all the fine print... and the print seems to get finer by the day...! **What** is wrong with my eyes? _He reached a decision and returned to his office, where he placed a call.

Later that afternoon, he entered the Imperial medical facility. The information desk directed him to the correct department -- Ophthalmology.

"Hello, Lord Vader. You are having trouble with your vision?" The droid seated him in front of some strange equipment which it proceeded to adjust to Vader's eye level. "It will be necessary for you the remove the mask portion of your helmet, Lord Vader, sir, if we are to check the condition of your eyes." It waited.

Vader complied, though he _knew_ what they would tell him here -- he was going blind. While that would release him from the hated office work, it would also be the end of his beloved flying. He would be chained forever to old Palpy...

The droid made adjustments, looked into Vader's eyes, adjusted again, pressed buttons, and recalibrated yet again. It then interrupted Vader's musings to ask, "Is this any better, sir?"

Vader looked through the apparatus. _Hey! This is good. The_ _fine print is legible. But how...? _He looked an inquiry at the droid who then explained that his eyes were merely aging, and needed some minor adjustments with a laser. They would do one eye today, the other in a week or two. Vader sighed in relief. "So I'm not going blind?"

He could swear that the droid chuckled -- sometimes they seemed almost annoyingly human! "Oh, no, Lord Vader. It is a normal phenomenon that all humans must face, sooner or later. You are just facing it sooner than many. However, you will be back to normal vision soon. Now relax, this will just take a few moments."

An hour later, Vader left the facility. The vision in one eye was extremely blurred, but he had been assured that, as it healed, it would soon clear to perfect vision. And then the other eye. Though he still reserved judgment, Vader was optimistic... the droid seemed to know all about this presbyopia and laser correction stuff. Just as long as Vader wasn't going blind, as he had feared.


	12. Eleven

Title: Vader's Quest Chronicles

Summary: Darth Vader learns that he has a son and the search begins

Chapter 11

Disclaimer: Star Wars is the property of George Lucas. No disrespect is intended with this story.

* * *

At last! Vader was ordered to wait upon the Emperor, prepared to travel. Maybe he could _finally_ get out of the office, off the surface of Coruscant. He had _never_ been so bored in all his life! If he had to remain in that office much longer, they'd have to lock him up somewhere as a mindless, drooling idiot! How had his wife managed to survive _years_ of that stuff? And even seemed to enjoy it? Well, when _he_ ruled, underlings would do all that! Then he recalled that, to Palpatine, he was an underling, which was probably why he, and not Palpy, had been so occupied -- duh! The thought brightened his day. He imagined his Master occupied as he had recently been, and smiled as he pictured the Emperor's predictable reactions. 

"Good morning, Master. As you commanded, I am here and await your -- "

"Yes, Vader, so I see!" snapped Palpatine. "You are certainly in a cheery mood today! Weren't out carousing last night, eh?" He cackled. "Well, maybe you should have been, for there certainly won't be any carousing where you are going -- to the Endor System, specifically, to the Forest Moon."

"Are the Rebels there, Sir?" For Vader could perceive of no other reason to enter that Force-forsaken region of space.

Palpatine smiled unpleasantly. "Not yet, my boy, not yet! But they will be... oh yes, they will be! They won't be able to resist the bait and then we will spring the trap...!" Evil laughter caused him to cough and gasp.

_What has the old wampa's bait done now? _thought Vader, as he waited for his Master to recover.

Sidious took a deep breath, followed by several long swallows from his glass. "We are building a _new_ Death Star, even larger and more powerful than before!"

_Oh, great! Another_ _twenty years of_ _useless quality control duty. That's nearly as bad as office work. _Vader wasn't happy with the idea, but…. "Yes, Master. But won't the Rebels become even more entrenched around the Galaxy while we construct --?"

Palpatine airily waved aside his comment and laughed. "Oh, but Lord Vader, this is such a deliciously devious plot, if I do say so myself!"

_You always do, Palpy, _thought Vader as he awaited the revelation of details. _And 'Devious' ought to be_ _your family name._

"This will not take as long to construct as our first ultimate weapon. In fact, it is already begun. No, the interior will be only roughly finished, at least until we have quashed the Rebellion. As of now, I have appointed a new commander to oversee construction."

_Force, no! Please, don't let it be_ _me; I'll go back to my_ _office and quietly do_ _official paperwork, but, **please, **not me_! prayed Vader in a panic.

"You, Lord Vader, are to escort Moff Jerjerrod to his new post, see him settled in, make certain construction is proceeding on target and that the satellite is amply protected by a shield generated from the nearby Sentry Moon. Is that clear, Vader?" Palpatine stared at him.

"Yes, Master. How long am I to remain there?" _Well, at least it was a break from this current stagnation on_ _Coruscant._

"Not long. After you escort Jerjerrod, thoroughly inspect the construction and the security of the shield generator. Report to me, then you have leave to resume your search for your son. You were ever a restless individual, Lord Vader, even as a young boy. I have sensed your recent feelings of constraint. I'm not inhuman…." Vader muffled a snort of laughter. Palpatine paused and asked, "You said something?" then continued as Vader shook his head. "Much as I prefer your company to your absence, your restlessness was ever a source of troublesome mischief. So go, my boy. May your search be fruitful."

Old Palpy was enjoying this dramatic declaration a little too much for Vader's comfort. How many irksome spies did he have in place this time? 'Troublesome mischief' indeed! But Vader merely bowed and left the chamber. _Space, here I come! _The renewed spring in his step brought relieved smiles to the faces of those who knew him -- Lord Vader was assuredly in a _good_ mood today!

* * *

_How had this slimy little reptilian excuse of_ _a man_ _gotten his posting as commander of_ _the Death Star_ _II_? _Whose mother-daughter-wife-sister-aunt had be slept with? Or_ _whom had be bribed? _He assuredly rubbed Vader the wrong way from the start, and asked too many useless, unanswerable questions about the first Death Star. To escape, Vader elected to engage in hours of lightsaber drill -- he had recently done only cursory practicing and needed to re-hone his skills. Despite Jerjerrod's annoying presence, it was good to be back aboard a Star Destroyer with his own shuttle craft and TIE fighter available to him. 

Jerjerrod had among his entourage a personal chef, an attractive young Twi'lek who reminded Vader vaguely of Aayla Secura, although she at least dressed slightly less provocatively than had that female Jedi. The Twi'lek was apparently one of Palpy's agents, ordered to attempt the seduction of Vader. Although she obviously loathed the assignment, she brushed against him whenever opportunity presented, hung on his every utterance, personally served him at meals. In general, she made a pest of herself, nearly as annoying as the proliference of mouse droids. Not wanting to hurt her feelings, Vader nonetheless firmly spurned her advances. The last straw came when she showed up to watch him drill with his lightsaber. No one, but no one, other than a sparring partner or a Jedi Master had ever been allowed to observe. He'd not even allowed Padmé to watch any serious practice, although he had shown off a little for her.

Drenched in perspiration that was offensive to his own nose, Vader nevertheless powered off his weapon and advanced on the young female. Eyes wide and cautious, she stood her ground. "You. Aay'i'sha, is it?" She nodded. "I don't know who hired you, though I have my suspicions, but get this through your head: I am _not_ interested in a relationship! Not with you. Not with anyone. I loved my wife. I have never been attracted to _anyone_ else! I probably never will be. If you just want to be friends, I can do that. But even my friends do not intrude on my lightsaber work. Not even my wife was allowed. Do you understand me, Aay'i'sha?"

"Yes, Lord Vader. But can you teach me to use a lightsaber?" Her eyes begged, bright with a desire to learn the skill. Vader considered the request. It would probably irritate Palpy. So why not? The idea amused him and with a nod of assent, he strode to the storage cabinet. Taking out a spare lightsaber, he made adjustments for length of blade and power. Then he tossed the weapon to Aay'i'sha. She caught it deftly and examined it.

"How do -- oh, I see. Like this!" She powered it on, and held the hissing blade upright in front of her, both hands grasping the hilt, a smile of pure delight on her face. "This is _so_ cool! I've always wanted to hold one; I've seen them in old holovids, but I never thought I could ever…Now what do I do?" She swooped the blade in an awkward figure eight, listening to the _thrummm _and _whooosh _as it moved through the air.

Vader stood beside her and demonstrated basic technique, gently correcting her when she erred. She picked up the general basics rapidly; she had a natural aptitude for the technique and was eager to learn. And finally having his own Padawan apprentice was for Vader an empowering feeling.

He ended the session, scheduled another for the next day, and cautioned Aay'i'sha to wear clothing that would protect against the inevitable burns. She nodded, and, smiling proudly, she left.

Vader wondered if she were at all Force-sensitive. Of course, without a midichlorian count, he couldn't be sure, but he suspected that she could be -- she seemed to sense how to move, to feel in advance the proper reactions. But maybe she had just pretended a lot with her chef's knives, imitating her favorite holovids. Could be either or neither. He put away the weapon that she had used, donned his mask and helmet, and went to freshen up with a hot shower. Aay'i'sha was a nice kid. He might hang around the Death Star a bit longer than he had originally intended.

Aay'i'sha's proficiency progressed rapidly. Vader was enjoying the lessons, although he heard Anakin's raucous jeering in his mind -- _Remember, that's **my **__body you are wearing, and I refuse to let it fall for a pretty blue face! _-- _Shut up_ _Anakin. She is basically a Padawan learner, a student. She doesn't attract me any more_ _than she does you. But she **does **__have a pretty face, doesn't she?_

Anakin need not have worried. During the course of the lessons, Vader ascertained that, while Aay'i'sha had a hero worship for himself and his lightsaber skills, her heart had fallen for Moff Jerjerrod, who seemed to ignore her completely. Vader suspected that young Jerjie wasn't as ambivalent as he seemed. His eyes watched the pretty Twi'lek jealously; whenever she talked to Vader, Jerjie flushed and looked away. Inter-species relationships weren't something Vader thought much about -- the personal relationships of others weren't his concern. So if Jerjerrod and Aay'i'sha were attracted to each other, what in blazes was stopping them? Vader shook his head and resolved to stay out of it. Perhaps their romance would progress better if he left to renew his search for Luke.

This new Death Star was an unsatisfying slipshod farce, anyway. The only quality construction was in the super-laser cannon and in the control room. Even the shield generator on the moon's surface wasn't up to Vader's own standards. The Emperor had really gone around the bend on this project. But Vader would make his report and thankfully be on his way. This sector was entirely too desolate for his liking. He hoped it would be a good long while before he was forced to return to it.

Aay'i'sha's eyes filled with tears at the news that he was leaving. She stood on tiptoe to place an awkward kiss on his cheek and despite himself, Vader hugged her. She had been a good student. He constructed a smaller, lowered power lightsaber for her with a pale pinkish blade and showed her how to construct her own, in the event she needed to. Then he bid her good-bye. He was going to miss the kid, but attachments, even to a quasi-Padawan...

He boarded his shuttle and returned to his Star Destroyer. As he entered his quarters, he observed that one could also become attached to things, to possessions. Like this Star Destroyer -- the Destructor just was _not_ quite his Executor. He couldn't get the shower adjusted to his liking, his bunk wasn't quite right, and there seemed to be at least three times the mouse droids on board... He resolved to attempt an exchange of vessels soon -- if Palpy didn't interfere. He probably had this one wired with all sorts of elaborate espionage devices to spy on his apprentice. The thought strengthened Vader's resolve to switch Star Destroyers and put a crimp in old Palpy's schemes.

* * *

The holoimage was blurry and indistinct, but the voice was Aay'i'sha's. "Please, Lord Vader, help me! I have to get away from this place! He's cruel and vicious and took my lightsaber and... Just help me, please!" 

_What had that slimy snake done to her? _Vader strode to his shuttle with angry impatience. _If Jerjerrod has harmed her in any way, the man will pay dearly, no matter who he knows or_ _how important he is! _No one harmed those whom Lord Vader cared about. He would rescue the pretty young Twi'lek, but what he would do with her then, he hadn't a clue.

Knowing that she was probably one of Palpy's spies, Vader announced to Jerjerrod that Aay'i'sha had been recalled to Coruscant; she was to immediately accompany Vader off the Death Star to report to her employer. With a curt nod, Jerjerrod summoned the Twi'lek with orders to bring her belongings -- she would be leaving with Lord Vader.

Aay'i'sha traveled light -- a few articles of clothing and her chef's knives were the sum of her personal things. Vader noticed a glaring absence.

"Where is her lightsaber, Jerjerrod? I gave it to her to defend herself; she is trained in its use." Vader assumed his most menacing voice, while Aay'i'sha cowered behind him.

Jerjerrod petulantly produced the confiscated weapon. "I thought that she had stolen it from you, Lord Vader, as a memento of your... ah... relationship together."

The truth of the situation dawned on Vader. The Moff was jealous of an imagined romantic relationship between Vader and Aay'i'sha. "You thought that a short, pink weapon belonged to _me_? Have you no common sense, man? It is proportioned for her size, not my own!" Of Aay'i'sha he quickly asked, "Is this everything? Has he confiscated anything else? No? Then come." He turned, and with Aay'i'sha close behind him, he boarded his shuttle and was away. Behind them, Moff Jerjerrod watched the shuttle leave; relief and longing warred on his face.

The story emerged as Vader flew them to rejoin his Star Destroyer. With Vader gone, the Twi'lek had happily turned her full attentions on the Moff. At first, he seemed flattered and reciprocated somewhat. But his desires were perverted -- _whatever that meant, _thought Vader -- and he was cruel and vicious and threatened her. When she pulled her lightsaber in self-defense, he easily disarmed her and kept the weapon.

"What," sobbed Aay'i'sha, "did I do wrong? I _know_ that he was attracted to me! I saw how he watched me move, watched me always with desire smoldering in his eyes"

Vader suspected that he knew the real problem -- Jerjie was attracted, but apparently had a phobia about inter-species relationships. As gently as possible, Vader explained this to Aay'i'sha, who burst into tears again. "But Lord Vader, he could have told me! He didn't have to be cruel."

"No, my dear child, he didn't. But it's his loss. It's not you, so much as a self-hate at himself for being attracted in spite of what he believes to be wrong. You are a lovely person, you'll find someone to love -- just not me, either, please!"

With a watery giggle, Aay'i'sha exclaimed, "Lord Vader, how did you get so wise? And I like you, but you really aren't my type, even though I was supposed to try to seduce you. Oh!" She suddenly recalled, "What am I going to do? I can't go back to Coruscant! Please don't take me there! "

"Well, do you have any idea where you would like to go?" Vader was afraid that he already knew the answer.

"Ummm... well, I have a girlfriend on Tatooine."

"No! Out of the question. You wouldn't like the planet -- dry, sandy, very unpleasant. And the Hutts have entirely too much control there. Try somewhere else." Vader refused to even consider another trip to Tatooine. "You wouldn't consider returning to Ryloth? Do you have family left there?"

She considered a moment. "I don't know -- I very much doubt it. Couldn't I just stay with you? Your ship is so big…."

And his troopers could tear her to pieces. But they wouldn't, she was under his personal protection -- fear of him would far outweigh their desire for amusement. And, after all, Palpy had hired her to seduce him. This wouldn't be quite what the old bantha brain intended, but...

Vader nodded. "All right, Aay'i'sha. We'll see how it goes. You can stay until you decide where you would like to go. Besides a little more lightsaber training can't hurt. Let's introduce you, and assign you some quarters, near enough to mine for your protection, yet far enough away for propriety's sake." Though any humanoid female under Vader's protection, traveling about the Galaxy with him would give rise to gossip that no amount of apparent propriety would quash. But, then, Aay'i'sha's reputation was probably in tatters anyway. Perhaps her new facility with a lightsaber would help balance it out in the end.

* * *

Palpatine cackled gleefully and rubbed his hands together. If Vader wanted a woman, then his Master had provided one. And there was no danger of little Vaders with this one -- at least, he didn't think that a mating of Twi'lek and human would produce viable offspring; with those pesky midichlorians, one never knew, but he would chance it. And that left Leia…. Palpatine let himself contemplate an inner vision of the Princess. She would make a _lovely_ Sith Lady -- if she were Force-sensitive. If not, well, she could be a Sith's lady companion. And perhaps there would be little Palpatines. He pictured Leia great with child, but Leia turned into Padme Amidala as he had last seen her. Sidious sputtered awake. What in blazes was Vader's _wife_ doing in his fantasy? Anyway, he'd forgotten all that…. He forced Leia's face back onto the figure and returned to his daydreams.

* * *

Vader knew where all the security cams were housed. He had considered some tinkering to disable them, or maybe to set up a continuous loop. He finally decided it would be far more fun to tease and frustrate his Master by covering them at strategic moments, points which would leave Palpy in fuming ignorance of true events in Vader's quarters. 

Aay'i'sha usually used his shower after lightsaber lessons, then dressed in the privacy of the refresher chamber. Vader had asked her to wrap herself in a large towel as she left, concealing her clothing. When he explained his reasons, she giggled and entered into his games -- fooling Palpatine was fun!

Vader generally entered just as she left, leaving the recorders to convey the impression that she was still present in his quarters. Throwing his clothing at random, sooner or later, he made sure that something covered the cams, shutting them down until uncovered again. While the game of deceiving Palpatine was fun for awhile, Vader soon grew tired of it. He wanted the secure privacy of his quarters aboard the Executorand began to scheme again to exchange Star Destroyers.

And he really needed to find a home for Aay'i'sha -- he couldn't drag her around the Galaxy with him for very long. Maybe they could study the 'Help Wanted' ads on the HoloNet...

* * *

Sidious threw the holopad across the room -- these were the most boring security recordings he had _ever_ seen. When was Vader going to get down to the _good_ stuff? Apparently, his idea of foreplay involved a lightsaber! At this rate, how had Amidala ever gotten pregnant? Vader had fathered her child, there was no doubt about that. But -- lightsabers before sex? The boy was perverted! Aaah! There -- he put an arm around -- No! He's showing her still _another_ technique! He watched the rest of the lightsaber practice recording in dissatisfaction. They didn't even leave together; Vader stayed behind to pick up and service the lightsabers. Sidious checked the recording from the Twi'lek's quarters... Nothing there. Maybe she was in Vader's…Yes! There she was, just leaving the shower... she crossed out of range…. And here came Vader -- _finally_! 

The anticipation of a voyeuristic experience tingled through him…. And the recording suddenly disappeared as Vader began to strip, throwing his clothing toward where the cams were hidden. Sidious cursed furiously. He couldn't even listen -- the recorders were light and movement activated. He checked other recordings, but all were as boring as the first.

* * *

Eating a first rate breakfast prepared by Aay'i'sha, Vader studied the HoloNet 'Help Wanted' ads. It would help if the girl knew what she'd like to do... or even where she wanted to live. After all, she did have some interesting qualifications. However, how many openings could there possibly be for a former Imperial spy, trained as a personal chef (with emphasis on the _personal_) who was also proficient with a lightsaber, tutored by Darth Vader himself? He thought that maybe the chef part would be her best bet -- the girl really was an excellent chef and had trained at the Coruscant Academy for the Gourmet Experience. Vader took another bite and chewed slowly, savoring it. If Aay'i'sha prepared many more meals for him, he would once more be a _fat_ Sith lord. He _had_ to find a job for her. Too bad that the Jedi Academy was gone -- she would certainly have spiced up things in the kitchens there, and the lightsaber would have fit right in! And anyway, Coruscant was out -- one didn't just _quit_ as one of Palpy's Imperial spies, and being fired usually involved termination, by either Sith lightning or sudden and uncontrolled flight which ended in forceful impact against the nearest wall. 

Joining her friend on Tatooine was simply out of the question. And she had no reason to return to Ryloth -- she seemed to despise her home world almost as much as he despised Tatooine. Most advertised openings seemed to be for a 'cook' and not a 'chef'. When he had asked, she had patiently explained that it was sort of like the difference between Dex's Diner and the Club Coruscanti: a cook simply cooked, whereas a chef was an artist with food. Vader had laughed and told her that some of Dex's culinary creations had been _very_ artistic, especially after months on battle rations. Aay'i'sha playfully smacked him, and returned to perusing the HoloNet. Vader couldn't help but wonder how Palpy was interpreting the playful banter that had easily sprung up between them. He rose and left the droids to clear away the scant remains of breakfast.

This morning he was teaching Aay'i'sha the basics of piloting, a skill she had never had opportunity to learn; she did admit to having once borrowed -- and wrecked -- her cousin's new T-16 speeder.

"It was so beautiful and shiny, just parked there. I got in it -- I just wanted to sit there and pretend awhile. How was I supposed to know that he'd left it keyed up and ready to go? And when I tried to shut it off again, it just took off, and kept going faster and faster. I finally located the braking control, but then it spun out of control completely and I jumped out just before it crashed. He was _very_ angry."

_I can imagine, _thought Vader. _I_ _hope this lesson produces a better end result. At least she is cheerful and_ _unafraid_…. He ignored the ripple of apprehension tickling his senses.

After thoroughly searching the hangar bays of the DestructorVader had located a small and unused two-seater. He seated his pupil at the controls and settled himself into the copilot's seat. "Do not touch anything until I tell you to," he warned as she eagerly reached for the controls.

Aay'i'sha snatched her hands back and sat on them, "Yes, Lord Vader," she answered in a small voice.

Vader began to carefully explain the various controls, dials, and gauges. She listened attentively. He quizzed her, then reiterated until she could correctly identify everything in front of her. Then he took a deep breath. It was now or never.

"Now, Aay'i'sha. You may start the shuttle." With a grin of pure delight and excitement, she obeyed -- and promptly hit full throttle.

"Pull back! Pull back!" Vader yelled at her. She managed to slow and turn just before hitting the closed space doors. Troopers and droids ran for cover as she shot back the way they'd _come. _For the first time in his life, Vader worried about his own safety while flying. Then he remembered that he was copilot and took the craft under his own capable control.

He signaled for the space doors to open and took them out into open space. Then he returned control to Aay'i'sha. With no hesitation, she shot away from the Destructorleaving Vader to wonder at his own wisdom in beginning this project.

A few hours later, they returned to the Star Destroyer, Vader piloting -- he preferred not to risk his neck for a second time today in Aay'i'sha's heedless style of landing. But she could fly. It was just her takeoffs and landings that left her instructor drenched in nervous perspiration. The young Twi'lek might make a passable pilot -- eventually. Vader left his pupil studying astrogation and went to engage in some personal lightsaber drill -- he needed the release of tension that it would give him. He now suddenly realized how Obi-Wan must have felt when first forced to fly with Anakin. In his mind, he heard Anakin's protest of _Hey, at least I_ _could land whatever I_ _flew! _And Obi-Wan's knowing chuckle followed him down the corridor.

Palpatine's daily comlink summons had become greatly annoying. The Sith Master had begun commencing each transmission with an archly sly inquiry of "Am I interrupting something?" followed by his evil chuckle. Variations on the formula included, "Is anything good cooking?" and "Had any Twi'lek appetizers today?" Vader gritted his teeth and endured the verbal innuendo of his Master, although the man's salacious tone was starting to really get on his nerves. The only serious way that he could see of ending it would deprive him of the Twi'lek's enjoyable companionship. He did entertain a few imaginative solutions. One he actually for a few moments considered -- kidnapping by pirates. He could contact Jetscar, have him kidnap the Emperor... _On_ _second thought, better not. Old Palpy would probably throw around Sith lightning and_ _fry his kidnappers, leaving himself stranded in a ship which he didn't know how to fly. Then I would have to go rescue him. _Besides, he liked his step-relative and wouldn't want him and his men hurt or killed. Vader grinned in wry amusement. _Fine Sith lord, I am_, _more worried about the welfare of pirates than of my_ _Master. Oh, well, it was an_ _amusing daydream. _The comlink chirped. _Here we go again..._

"Yes, Master. Did you have anything _new_ to impart?" _Wait for it _--.

Palpatine's image leered suggestively at him. "A little interruptus, eh, Lord Vader?" He uttered an obscene cackle.

Vader groaned inwardly. _This is insufferable! The man is an idiot! A bantha's ass in Imperial robes._ "No, Master. You are not interrupting anything." _Except my_ _entire life, just not what you would like to think you are interrupting._

His tasteless daily joke over, Palpatine made a few useless comments and suggestions and dismissed his apprentice. Vader remained staring at the holopad in distaste.

Maybe he and Aay'i'sha should give the salacious old lecher a show…. No, it wouldn't be fair to Aay'i'sha, and would be disrespectful to his memories of his wife -- he still _felt_ married, even if she was dead. Besides, the irrepressible Twi'lek would probably burst into giggles. He tried to imagine her shapely blue body against his own, and failed abysmally. There was just no sexual attraction between them. It felt almost like incest to even consider the idea, no matter what old Palpy had intended. She was his Padawan learner, at least in flying and in lightsaber training. And she was becoming very proficient in most of the lightsaber forms. He had decided that she was indeed somewhat Force-sensitive, but he couldn't bring himself to teach her any Sith variations, or to encourage her to call on anger and hate. Aay'i'sha did not need the burden of becoming Sith added to her life. She would have been an adequate Jedi -- except for her piloting skills.

Even after months of practice, she could not get the hang of landings -- she had crashed her practice shuttle and two old TIE fighters before Vader decided to just let the tractor beam pull her aboard at the end of each flight. She might be able to "feel the Force" with a lightsaber, but was apparently clad in an impermeable shield against it when landing. _Well, _mused Vader to himself, _one couldn't have everything!_

Afraid that his own lightsaber skills were too much for his pupil to handle, he had demonstrated and observed and let her duel with the droid. But she wanted to test her skills against his own.

"Please Lord Vader. How can I know if I'm any good unless I have someone to duel against?"

"Aay'i'sha, I told you, I am afraid I'll hurt you. My skills have ever been better that most; I bested Count Dooku, when he was Sith. I have dueled with the best and won. You are extremely proficient, but..."

"Is my lightsaber not strong enough against yours? Have you not noticed that I have altered it to higher power? Check the practice droid's setting; it is set for your own level, Lord Vader! I am good enough to face you! Or are you fearful that I will hurt you? Wouldn't that be nice -- the great Darth Vader, injured by a mere girl, a Padawan apprentice! I dare you!" Aay'i'sha was so angry that she was near tears as she taunted and goaded him. He was tempted, but not now, not like this, not in anger on the part of either of them, not as he had faced Obi-Wan on Mustafar.

He kept his tone even as he replied. "Not now, Aay'i'sha. To be completely honest, I had not noticed anything except the color change in your lightsaber, that it is now mauve, instead of pink. Did you also alter the power upward when you constructed the new one?" Eyes wide and bright with unshed tears, breast heaving, her face still set in seething anger, she nodded mutely.

"Perhaps tomorrow then. But never in anger, Aay'i'sha, dear, **_never_ **in anger. Now power down your weapon and go shower while I do some drilling of my own."

Anger melting from her face, the Twi'lek silently obeyed. Vader watched her go. _What have I done? I wanted to irritate my_ _Master, _so _I have created a_ _half-trained quasi-Jedi to unleash upon the Galaxy! She is neither Jedi nor Sith; I have to end this relationship before her life is irrevocably tainted by the Dark Side. _He ignited his own lightsaber and began a vicious attack on the practice droid, venting his anger at himself.

* * *

Oh, good, good... a lover's spat! Palpatine couldn't hear what was said -- he hated the boring thrum and hiss of lightsaber practice, so the sound was deactivated. Oh, was she angry! And waving around a lightsaber; Vader had better watch his...! Sidious cackled to himself. Well, that _would_ certainly put an end to the possibility of little Vaders…. But, no, Vader had evidently calmed her down. Why didn't he hold her in his arms and kiss her and…. Ooooh! Now _he's_ mad. Guess maybe they weren't going to make up after all. _Why_ had he ever imagined that Vader's sex life would be more interesting than his regular life? For Palpatine had to admit that Vader had become boring. He never reacted to those opening comlink jibes. Just once he'd like to hear him say "Yes, Master, you _are_ interrupting! Now go away and let us get on with it!" And come to think of it, he hadn't done much searching for the boy lately. Maybe it was time to end Vader's little liaison with his lovely Twi'lek...

* * *

Unaware that he and his Master had reached the same conclusion, Vader sat down with Aay'i'sha to have a serious discussion about her future. She was still clueless where her future was concerned, and apprehensive over the thought of leaving his protection. Nothing had surfaced in HoloNet employment ads that even tempted her to apply. 

"Child, we can't go on like this. That randy old bantha in Coruscant thinks that you are my paramour."

She wrinkled her brow. "Your _what_?"

He sighed. "My sex slave, lover, mistress, whatever you want to call it -- he thinks you have successfully seduced me into your bed and that we are spending every free moment having sexual relations of one type or another. Force! He probably thinks that lightsaber drill is foreplay! His salacious imagination seems to have no boundaries. I am sick to death of his tasteless innuendo! We have to find a safe harbor for you!" Vader closed his eyes a moment, then leaned back in his chair. "I _may_ have one possible source of information. I'll check with a... uh... a friend of mine in... um... the private shipping business. He may know of something." And Jetscar just _might_ know of someone who knew someone who knew someone who knew...

Vader and Aay'i'sha were relaxing in his quarters after the promised lightsaber duel. She was good. By the Force, she was good, though not quite as good as she aspired to be or had boasted of being. It was her rapidly increasing ability that led him to hope that Jett could help.

"Private shipping? Is he a smuggler, then? That would be...interesting" Aay'i'sha didn't sound too sure.

Vader laughed. "No, not a smuggler. And he might know of a position that can employ your admittedly peculiar mix of talents. I'll contact him tomorrow. Good night, my Padawan apprentice. You do wield an awesome lightsaber."

Aay'i'sha rose and smiled. "Thank you, my Master in lightsaber training. You aren't so bad yourself." She patted his arm affectionately as she passed him on the way out of his quarters.

As the door closed behind her, Vader rose and picked up his shirt that had fallen from its position over the spycam. _Wonder what Palpy will make of_ _that last bit? Probably far_ _more than I can_ _ever imagine. Who cares anyway? _Vader stretched, yawned, and retired to his bunk.

Despite a few leers and bawdy comments, Jetscar promised to use his underground network to aid in searching out lawful employment for Aay'i'sha. His own suspicions to the contrary, he could sympathize with Vader's concerns for the girl's safety. After all didn't Jett worry about that contrary daughter of his own? Privately, he thought that Vader was tired of the girl and wanted to be rid of her before his son got wind of her. He could see where that might be embarrassing...he certainly wouldn't want his own sons to know about a couple of his past relationships -- and they hadn't been nearly as comely as Vader's little Twi'lek!

Jetscar had turned up a lead. Or, rather, his daughter had. There was an opening for a chef at a new casino where Marsiella Lars was manager.

"Can you imagine, Vader? _My _girl managing a casino? A real honest position! And Marsi didn't have to sleep her way into it! She says that your girl sounds perfect."

Aay'i'sha herself wasn't quite so sure. "What about my lightsaber? How can I practice? And what if someone thinks I'm a...Jedi…and tries to kill me?"

Vader laughed. "Just don't levitate anything in front of anyone" -- for that was her latest accomplishment, something she had learned on her own. "And you are taking a droid with you that can be set for practice, as well as for other duties. This is a great opportunity, my dear girl. I will keep in touch -- probably not often, but you will hear from me. Keep your speeder at a reasonable speed and remember to land gently. Let the Force cradle your landings." He looked down into her eyes. "Remember, I care for you like a daughter or a little sister." He dropped a quick kiss on her forehead. "May the Force be with you... always."

He watched as Aay'i'sha entered the shuttle and raised a hand in farewell. The shuttle then lifted off and was gone. Vader turned abruptly and left the landing pad. It was time to return to the Executor. He was abandoning his berth on the Destructormaking a clean break from the interlude with his Twi'lek companion. Let Palpy rage when he figured it out. Vader had left all the security cams in his and Aay'i'sha's personal spaces covered. He laughed in appreciation of his brief escape from his Master's constant surveillance. Once aboard the Executorwith its security cams disabled, he would get back to the business of locating his son.


	13. Twelve

Title: Vader's Quest Chronicles

Summary: Darth Vader learns that he has a son and the search begins

Chapter 12

Disclaimer: Star Wars is the property of George Lucas. No disrespect is intended with this story.

Notes: Events now begin to occur within the context of TESB

* * *

Curse it, he _missed_ Tarkin! Especially since Aay'i'sha was now no longer around, either. There was no one with whom to share private jokes and frustrations. Vader was _lonely_. His men were too afraid of him to give honest opinions when asked -- he guessed that his infamous displays of temper had probably caused that --and his Master only wanted obedience, not casual conversation. Things were just not the same without his friends. True, he had encouraged Aay'i'sha to leave. But why hadn't Wil _listened_ when cautioned to abandon the Death Star? And now whatever, if anything, remained of Wilhuff Tarkin would, along with all the other trillions of bits of Death Star debris, eternally orbit the skies above Yavin IV. 

Heartily sick of his personal searches for the Rebel base -- for naturally, they had abandoned the one on Yavin IV -- Vader resorted to a new tactic. He ordered the deployment of thousands of probe droids, sending them to every comer of the Galaxy.

And to step up his search for his son, he hired bounty hunters. He shuddered. They were a villainous lot; some of them almost frightened _him_. He really didn't like bounty hunters, they were so _underhanded_; give him an honestly open villain any day! But he wanted results, and was willing to do whatever it took.

Vader now knew the boy's name was definitely Luke Skywalker, and that he had been raised on Tatooine by Owen and Beru. _That_ had been a stroke of genius -- hadn't Tatooine been the absolutely _last_ place he had wanted to search? And 'Skywalker' -- well, duh! nothing like the obvious! 'Luke'-- he liked the sound of that. It really didn't matter, though -- Sidious would change it and tack 'Darth' onto the front; he'd be Darth Somebody-or-Other. Darth Bartus, most likely! Vader was getting rather sick of his Master's Sith pretensions. Why were the code names any longer important? The Sith -- all two of them! -- were out in the open and every one knew -.or at least suspected -- who they were.

Dammit! he'd _liked_ being 'Skywalker'-- it was appropriate to his love of flying. And 'Anakin' was all right, too, as long as no one tried to shorten it. 'Ani'--no matter how they spelled it! -- seemed a bit sissified from any lips but his wife's or his mother's. But when he took over, he'd like to restore 'Skywalker' as his name. 'Emperor Skywalker the First'. He liked how that sounded! Yes, 'Emperor Sky walker' had a good ring to it; his son could be 'Prince Luke' eventually becoming 'Emperor Skywalker the Second'. And none of that Jedi celibacy nonsense. He'd find a wife for Luke, one who would provide many sons and daughters to firmly establish the Skywalker dynasty in the Galaxy. All with the wonderfully immense powers of the Sith at hand to maintain peace and justice.

It had been a long day. Happily daydreaming, Vader drifted off into a well-deserved nap.

It did not take long for the results from the probes. A lot of the data that they transmitted was garbage, of no use, but a few leads seemed promising. Vader allowed his attention to focus on one. "There! The Rebels are in the Hoth System!"

"But, Lord Vader," protested one of the men, "there is no intelligent life on the planet."

Vader turned to him. "Are _you_ presuming to question _my_ judgment?" Using the Force, he gently tightened the man's throat, cutting off his air supply. As he struggled to breathe, the man frantically shook his head. Vader as suddenly loosed his hold. "Good! Set a course for the Hoth System!" He strode swiftly from the bridge, leaving behind a scurrying hive of activity.

Later, as his men prepared for a landing on Hoth, Vader decided to spend a few quiet moments in meditation -- though that busybody Kenobi would likely intrude again. If Vader thought it had been bad before, ever since that laughably short duel in the Death Star had ended in Obi-Wan's suicide -- for what else could you call it when he had _let_ Vader kill him?-- Vader's old Master had _really_ become a nuisance. He spouted off to Vader at every opportunity. Vader sighed. If it wasn't the Emperor on the hated comlink, it was Obi-Wan in his mind. And sometimes both at the same time! Emperor: Go kill this one or that one. Obi-Wan: You know that's not the Jedi way, Darth. _If you're going to be in my mind, _Vader had told the voice time and time again, _get it right --_ _it's **Vader. **Darth _is _more of a title; We're all Darth Something. _My _name is now **Vader.**_

Obi-Wan's voice had since reverted to 'Anakin' most of the time….Vader guessed that old habits were hard to break. He settled himself for meditation. As if on cue, the comlink went off, but it was merely Admiral Piett with the news that he could prepare for his landing, the Rebels' shield generators would soon be down.

With a bit of regret, for, with Tarkin dead and Aay'i'sha gone, he almost relished and looked forward to the mental sparring with Obi-Wan's voice, Vader returned to the bridge, to lead the landing party at the Rebel base. The _Millennium Falcon _was there and so was his son -- he felt it. _Soon, Luke, _he vowed, _soon you will know your father and your true destiny. And it won't be as Palpy's Sith apprentice. I will train you in the ways _of _the Force! For who better to train you than your own father? And it will certainly be nice to have a real human Force trained sparring partner again for lightsaber practice! _A smile of anticipation on his face, he boarded the landing shuttle.

Anticipation turned to ashes as he watched the _Falcon _blast its way out of the icy hangar. He hadn't seen Luke, but he thought he'd seen Leia and took a moment to wonder if she'd learned any new words or if the illusion of safety had tempered her tongue. What an entourage she had -- his son, a Wookiee, two droids -- one of whom suspiciously resembled Threepio -- and a smuggler. He let them go for now; the bounty hunters could track them if his men lost them again -- and, knowing this latest bunch of Imperial incompetents, that seemed likely! Why did he ever expect anything involving this particular small band of Rebels to work out as he'd planned? His son must really be strong with the Force -- he's almost swear he was still on the planet! Vader returned to the shuttle and thence to his Star Destroyer.

The assemblage of bounty hunters was a motley, villainous group. But these were the best and he was sending them to search for the _Millennium Falcon_ -- as he'd predicted, his men seemed to have lost it in an asteroid field. The _Executor _hovered just beyond the edge of the field in relatively clear space. The sudden reappearance of the small ship had caused a brief flurry, but then it had as suddenly disappeared again. Vader dispatched the bounty hunters just before going to hyperspace.

One of the bounty hunters, Boba Fett, only wanted the _Millennium Falcon's _captain in return -- his plans were to claim the sizeable bounty posted by Jabba the Hutt. Ugh! The Fett man was as creepy as Vader vaguely recalled the parent having been. What _did_ one call the sole source of a clone's genetic material? Boba Fett could technically call every clone trooper in the Galaxy 'brother'-- scary thought, that! Vader knew that Fett was simply an unaltered clone of the original clone stock, but he still felt using cloning for _personal_ reproduction was just wrong! It offended his sense of ethical behavior for humanity -- even for a Sith lord.

Thankfully, Palpatine had apparently never felt the urge to procreate. The Emperor disliked -- no, he _hated_ -- children; it was just as well he'd never fathered any, as he would probably have lost his temper and fried them with his Sith lightning long before they reached adulthood. Besides Vader couldn't imagine any woman willingly consenting to couple with the Sith Master, especially in his current state of deterioration. However, Palpy apparently intended to live forever, so had never felt compelled to reproduce himself. Vader shuddered at the thought of miniature Palpys -the adult was bad enough!

* * *

_Well, Vader, _he thought to himself, _you certainly **suck**_ _at relationships! _He ticked off the details. _You managed to kill off_ _most of_ _the Jedi, eliminating the few real friends you had there; you killed your wife; you alienated and_ _then killed your former Jedi Master; you mistook Palpatine's evil intentions for real friendship; you let your troopers destroy your step-brother…. At least you can't really blame yourself for Tarkin's death, you did try to warn him to abandon the Death Star, but he had just refused to see the inevitability of_ _its destruction…. _Of course, he recalled, the mental warning was probably too late anyway, coming only while he'd spiraled out of control away from the Death Star in the disabled TIE-AX1 fighter. Fighting for some semblance of control over the tiny ship, he had activated his distress beacon even as he mentally tried to reach Tarkin's mind. _Dammit! I did try! There had been time for Tarkin to evacuate...! And now Tarkin was gone. _Well, maybe his son would bond with him as he had once himself bonded with Obi-Wan. They could be so much more, though. Not just Master and Padawan, but father and son. Deeper than just friendship and respect, but love and affection…. Somewhat in surprise, Vader realized that those were the very ties he'd had with Obi-Wan, the kind he had mistakenly imagined he would form with his Sith Master. _This time, _he vowed to himself, _I'm not going to muck it up! This time, I'll get it right! _When the small voice of his former self insisted that he might have trouble getting past the fact that he had killed the kid's mother, he ignored it and dismissed the fact as irrelevant, just as he had always dealt with the unpalatable and unpleasant. 

_You're blind, Anakin, blind! _Obi-Wan's voice suddenly echoed so loudly that he looked around, almost expecting to see Kenobi standing behind him. He saw nothing but hazy shadows.

Go _away. Obi-Wan! Don't you have something better to do? Go_ _haunt my_ _kid --_ _right now he's probably far_ _more interested in your opinions than I am_! _And I'm_ _not blind _-- _I can see clearly where I erred in the past. This time I'll get it right! _He deliberately turned his back on the shadows with a last comment, _And it's **Vader **__now. I am_ _Vader! Anakin is dead. _Maybe, if he emphasized it enough, it would be true; his Anakin-self was sometimes more troublesome than Obi-Wan's shade.

But the haziness now appeared in front of him. _You mourn your friend's passing; you do_ _honor to his memory. But you must let him go also as you have the others in your life _-- _Qui-Gon, your mother, Padmé _-

Viciously, Vader interrupted. _Leave my wife and my mother out of this! Leave me something of the past! Go away! Just leave! Leave me **alone**! _His head had begun to throb from his efforts to ignore the voice of Obi-Wan. The ache intensified until sustaining his angry impatience became impossible and nothing was important except the pain inside his head. With a moan, he closed his eyes and tried to relax, willing the agony away, until at last the welcome oblivion of sleep overtook him.

Vader cautiously opened one eye, then the other; then he carefully turned his head. The migraine was gone. But every joint in his body protested at his movements. _Force! How long have I been in this one position? Must have been **hours**_ _to get this stiff_…. He thought nostalgically of his youthful ability to sleep in any cramped position and still awaken to easy movement. Ruefully, he realized that his age was beginning to rear its ugly head. Mentally ticking off the years, he decided that he must be approaching his forty-fifth year -- give or take a year or two. Smiling to himself, he idly imagined his present appearance had he never had to assume the 'Vader suit'-- he would probably have a lot of gray in his blond hair that would show silvery in the light... Hmmmmm…it might be sort of cool to have a hairpiece made next time he was on Coruscant -- he was getting awfully tired of the ugly scarring on his shaven head. Maybe then he could go out once in awhile without the stupid helmet! Especially since his mustache was coming along nicely. Of course, he'd need some new clothes, too -- as a Sith lord, he had an even more limited wardrobe than he'd had as a Jedi! Naturally, he'd get black -- he _liked_ wearing black, just not the ugly body armor! He pictured himself in apparel similar to what he'd worn as a Jedi -- knee high boots, black pants, black tunic, black leather vest and belt, and a wonderful flowing black cloak with a _hood --_ he missed his hooded cloak! The cloak was the only part of old Palpy's apparel that he envied, and Palpy knew it! Was that why he made Vader wear the stupid ugly helmet and respirator/mask? Because there was now available a convenient miniaturized respirator that he could carry for emergencies...

Hmmmmm…with that and a hairpiece, and some new clothes, he could go out, socialize, meet women…. After all, he could admire them, even if he didn't desire -- he had never felt _that_ for anyone except his wife, he was just a one-woman man in that respect. But he wanted a chance to _look_ without inspiring fear! He did appreciate a pretty woman! Although clothing seemed a lot more modest now, there were still plenty of low-cut necklines and slit skirts showing off feminine anatomy. Imagining what lay hidden could titillate also. Vader tried to imagine his wife in current fashions, and failed. He'd rather remember her in more intimate moments, clad only in flowing hair and a loving smile. If he never let his imagining reach her eyes…. For her eyes were always the undoing of his reveries. Carefully refusing to recall her terrified eyes, Vader let his mind remember, and something within him stirred as he returned to sleep in pleasantly erotic dreaming.

Fully awakening at last, Vader knew he had dreamed of Padmé , but was unable to recall more than a sense of peace and love. At least it hadn't been a nightmare, this time. However he did recall his midnight resolve for a makeover of his appearance. He could still wear the body armor when he was working, but for his leisure time…. _What leisure? _jeered Anakin; _he expects you to be at his beck and call all day every day, and all night as well! _Ignoring his inner voice, Vader arose and dressed, determined to effect the changes as soon as he could arrange a trip to the capital.

* * *

Light-years away, Darth Sidious sensed a change in his apprentice, something indefinable, yet disturbing to the Master. He resolved to keep Vader too busy to do anything...foolish. Perhaps it was time... time to reveal the identity of Lord Vader's son. For Palpatine had known his identity for some time, It was just so ... _satisfying_ to watch Vader's frustrated efforts to trace the boy... The Emperor sighed. Vader's time was ending; the son of Skywalker would soon eclipse the father and become the new Sith apprentice of Darth Sidious. Poor Vader. Like his predecessor Darth Tyranus, he would be ... eliminated by his successor, fully aware of his fate. And Sidious anticipated Vader's sudden realization of the delicious irony that _he_ had provided the means of his own ending -- the son for whom he'd searched so diligently. The Emperor cackled maniacally at his own thoughts. Yes indeed, poor Vader!

* * *

His dreams continued. Although thankful that they weren't nightmares, Vader could never recall their exact content, only that they had involved his wife; he always awoke feeling impatient for the next dream. He could recall a feeling of erotic intimacy, but never details. He wanted to remember, but was afraid to recall either the dreams or the memory of the reality, kept buried deeply in a secret corner of his mind, where the memories were all of a time before the world fell apart, and Anakin opened himself to Vader and the Dark Side. He kept that part of himself hidden from the Emperor, for the Sith Master would somehow corrupt the purity of the memories, as he had tainted Vader's life since…. _The man is a miserable blot _on _humanity, and the Galaxy would be much improved by his absence! _thought Vader. _I fully intend to bring about that absence when the time is ripe.. _He wasn't yet sure _how_, but it would involve the boy whom his Master referred to as 'the son of Skywalker' in a voice edged with the tiniest hint of fear. For, Vader knew, Palpatine feared his son, yet wanted to possess him also. _Was_ _Luke already so_ _powerful? Perhaps. Only time _-- _and the Force _-- _will tell._

One of his troopers brought the message -- Boba Fett had determined that the _Millennium Falcon _was bound for the gas mining colony on Bespin, and would meet Vader's men there to collect his reward -- Solo. At last! Vader ordered his shuttle prepared as the _Executor _went to hyperspace to arrive well ahead of Vader's prey.

Leaving the Star Destroyer in orbit a discreet distance from Bespin, Vader and a few of his troopers took the shuttle to Cloud City. There Vader confronted the facility's Baron Administrator, Lando Calrissian. Vader knew the type only too well -- gambler, adventurer, pirate, whatever role was convenient for the current situation. At the present Calrissian was a quasi-respectable businessman and was only too willing to deal with Vader and the Empire if it protected his own interests.

Sure, he knew the _Falcon, _had once owned her before losing her in a sabacc game with his friend, her captain and present owner, Han Solo. Betray Solo and his passengers to the Empire? Certainly, no problem, if it meant that the Empire would go away and stay away, henceforth turning a completely blind eye to Calrissian's little operation here on Bespin.

Vader felt his skin crawl as he dealt with the man. True, Vader had no intentions himself of keeping the deal, but Calrissian surely realized that and was _still_ ready to betray a friend...! The Empire settled into a quietly obscure suite, along with Boba Fett, to await arrival of the _Millennium Falcon _and its passengers.

To Vader's intense, but well-concealed, disappointment, his son was not aboard the _Falcon. _He had suspected as much, but had hoped he was wrong. However, some discreet torture would perhaps wring Luke's whereabouts from Solo -- he refused to chance Leia's apparent immunity to interrogation, and torturing Wookiees was usually unproductive. And, if Luke had even _half _the power that the Emperor thought, the distress of his friends should bring him flying to their rescue.

Fett demanded his prize -- Solo. But Vader refused to release even one hostage until he was certain that Luke was on his way. Fett fumed, but remained polite. He wanted Solo alive, for the Hutt's posted reward specified 'live' in order to claim the optimum bounty; his actual physical condition was not especially important.

As he awaited Luke's arrival, it gradually dawned on Vader that an aspiring young Jedi wielding a lightsaber could be a bit difficult to transport to the Emperor on Coruscant without bodily harm to those involved in the attempt. He ascertained that Cloud City contained the perfect solution -- a carbon-freeze unit. He could use the facility to put the boy into hibernation for the trip! Theoretically, it shouldn't harm him. He could also get Fett off his back by testing the process on Solo beforehand!

"But, Lord Vader," protested Calrissian, "we only use it for the carbon-freezing of gas for transport. "

"Solo's no good to me dead," growled Fett.

"If he dies, the Empire will compensate you!" Vader snapped, then commanded his troops, "Bring Solo and the others. We will test the facility on Solo. After I have Skywalker, you may take Solo to the Hutt on..." Vader shuddered and forced himself to put name to his despised home world, "Tatooine, and claim your bounty. The Princess and the Wookiee must never again leave this facility." He turned to the Baron Administrator. "Do I have your full cooperation on this, Calrissian? I should hate to have to leave a garrison of soldiers behind when I go."

Calrissian hurriedly agreed to cooperate. Vader had no intention of adhering to his end of the deal, so why should he trust this pirate to uphold his? The captain of his Star Destroyer would send in an occupying force on his prearranged signal no matter what deal he struck with Calrissian. As for leaving Leia here and trusting _this_ man to see to her safety? He would probably gamble her away if the opportunity arose. She was far more valuable as a pawn for the Empire. Besides, Vader was beginning to like her more and more.

Across the hissing carbon-freeze pit, Leia glared at him. Although she remained silent, her thoughts were as plain to Vader as if she had spoken them aloud. _Oh, Leia. Such language for a Princess! Tame, though. Is your tongue tempered by love for this... this **smuggler**? And my_ _mother, though unmarried at _my _birth, was a respectable woman; don't impugn her memory with obscene references! _As Leia's attention returned to Solo, Vader gestured to the men. "Put him in!"

Braver than he would have expected, Solo stood calmly, his eyes intent on Leia as he sank into the pit. He _actually loves her, _Vader thought in wonder.

Leia spoke through tears. "Han! I love you!"

A small smile played on Solo's lips as he replied, "I know," just before he disappeared into a cloud of super-frozen air.

_Phtah! _Vader thought in disgusted embarrassment at his own reactions to the scene, for it eerily reminded him of another last-minute declaration of love on Geonosis. To cover his own unwelcome emotions, he turned his attention to the carbonite slab encasing Solo's body.

"He's alive," declared Calrissian, "and in perfect hibernation!"

"Good! He is all yours, Bounty Hunter. Reset the chamber for Skywalker." Turning to his troopers, he added, "Take the Princess and the Wookiee to my ship!" After he had his son, he would find good use for them. Besides, the Empire still considered the Wookiee a wanted war criminal!

Calrissian quickly protested. "That was _never_ a part of our deal, nor was giving Han to --"

Vader swung to face him. "I am altering the deal. Perhaps you would like me to alter it further?" he asked in a voice rife with unspoken menace; he gently tightened the man's throat, then as suddenly released his Force grip. Calrissian fell silent and, rubbing his throat, left the chamber with the others. Vader watched him go. The man bore watching, but he would see reason -- or else. Vader melted into the shadows to await young Skywalker's arrival.


	14. Thirteen

Title: Vader's Quest Chronicles

Summary: Darth Vader learns that he has a son and the search begins

Chapter 13

Disclaimer: Star Wars is the property of George Lucas. No disrespect is intended with this story.

* * *

Vader knew that the Rebels considered Luke to be some sort of hero; after all, he had blown up the Death Star! Vader could almost hear a stupid, heroic fanfare when Luke appeared in the carbon-freeze chamber. This was Vader's first good look at him. A little short -- his mother hadn't been very tall, Vader fondly recalled -- but he was definitely a Skywalker, with blond hair and blue eyes and an air of easy self-confidence that sent rippling pride through Vader. _His_ son, Luke Skywalker, aspiring Jedi who would soon learn that the ways of the Sith opened far more realms of power. Together they would destroy Palpatine and rule the Empire. Soon -- very soon -- the Skywalker dynasty could begin! He moved out of the shadows to face his son.

Luke's lightsaber flashed into readiness at Vader's appearance. Behind his mask, Vader smiled. Surely, that was his own old weapon, the one he had thought lost on Mustafar. A swift image of Kenobi bending to retrieve Anakin's weapon flashed across his eyes. Had he saved it for all those years and then given it to Luke? For some unaccountable reason, Vader was amused at the thought of facing a lightsaber he had himself crafted so long ago. His smile broadened as he thought to himself, _All right, Luke, let's see what you have learned from my own old Padawan Master._

"The Force is strong in you, young Skywalker. Obi-Wan has taught you much, but you are not a Jedi yet!" Luke met his own blade in a series of thrusts and parries that impressed him. _Force, but the kid is **good! **He has a natural aptitude for this _-- _after all he **is** my son! -- and he'll be a great sparring partner someday. Only now…._ With his mind only half on his technique, Vader spoke aloud to Luke. "Impressive. You have learned more than I had anticipated."

"Oh, I'm just full of surprises," replied Luke as he confidently met each thrust of Vader's lightsaber.

_And your confidence will be your downfall, _thought Vader. With quick precision he disarmed Luke, who tumbled backward down the steps. Unthinking, Vader leapt after him. His landing, although graceful, jarred his already aching knees, _Owwww! While I'm on Coruscant, I really need to get these knees checked again..._

"Your future lies with me, Luke. You _will_ turn to the Dark Side. Obi-Wan knew this to be true."

"No! Never!" rang Luke's confident reply.

"There is much that Obi-Wan did not tell you, young Skywalker_. I _will complete your training!" Though he knew that it wouldn't work, he tried a little Sith mind control. The boy's resistance was all he had expected. Vader gradually forced him toward the waiting carbon-freeze pit.

"I'll die first!" proclaimed Luke, his eyes never leaving his opponent. A sudden lunge by Vader startled Luke who lost his balance and fell backward.

Sighing, Vader deactivated his lightsaber as he turned away. "All too easy. Perhaps you are not as strong as we had thought." _Too bad, my son. I was really starting to enjoy this little duel..._

"Time will tell," came Luke's voice from above and behind Vader.

_Whoa! _Vader grinned in delight. _That boy can **leap** _-- _and he is unexpectedly fast _-- _he should have been encased in a carbonite slab by now! _He looked up to see Luke hanging from the network of piping and hoses at the ceiling. "Your agility impresses. Obi-Wan **has** taught you well! Now. Release your anger….Only your anger and hate will give you the power to destroy me!" He taunted Luke. "Use them! Strike me down! Don't hold back! Strike with all the rage within you. You know that is what you desire to do!" _Come on, Luke, try! I won't really hurt you, well, not fatally anyway. Yeah! That's it. Come on. Let the path to the Dark Side open within you…._ Luke's saber was once more swinging at Vader as Luke advanced on him.

_Well, my knees are going to kill me, but here goes…. _Vader took a step backward into empty air and dropped to the floor below. He landed lightly enough, but, as he had known they would, his knees protested -- _I really should have practiced more leaps and landings lately, not that it would have made much difference_. He waited for Luke to follow him, grinding his teeth in the effort to control the now constant aching in his knees.

"Attack! Destroy me. Only then can you save yourself" His voice goaded Luke as the boy cautiously approached. Vader used the Force to hurl machinery and tools at Luke from every direction. Something crashed through the windows and Luke was pulled out with the force of the wind. "You are beaten, young Skywalker. If you will not join me, you may join Obi-Wan in death!" He saw Luke then, on a narrow catwalk and advanced toward him. "You will never escape, Luke. Resistance is futile."

His son was determined to do just that. He struck at Vader, meantime backing cautiously down the narrow walkway, their lightsabers clashing. Abruptly Vader took advantage of a moment's distraction and slashed at Luke, severing his hand, sending it and the boy's saber into the void below. In shock and pain, Luke continued to back steadily away from Vader's inexorable advance.

"There is no escape, Luke," Vader kept his voice soft, almost pleading. "Don't make me destroy you. Join me. I _will_ complete your training. Together _we_ can destroy the Emperor and rule the Galaxy. If only you knew the power of the Dark Side" He held out a hand to Luke in invitation.

"I'll _never_ join you!" Luke's voice was ragged with pain. "_Never_!"

Vader continued using all his persuasive powers, trying to overcome the youth's surprisingly strong resistance. _You certainly inherited your mothers stubborn streak, Son. She also refused to see the power….maybe…._ "Obi-Wan never told you what happened to your father, did he Luke?" There! That had touched a nerve. Luke's face contorted in anger.

"He told me enough! _You_ murdered him!"

"No, Luke. I _am_ your father. Come!" He kept his hand extended to Luke in invitation. "Join me. Father and son, we can rule the Galaxy!"

"No. _No_!" screamed Luke, now near to tears. "That's impossible! It's a _lie_! It can't be true! It can't!"

"Search your feelings, my son; you'll know it to be true. Join me. You can destroy the Emperor; he has foreseen this. Come with me. It is your destiny." His quiet and persuasive voice contrasted sharply with Luke's panic-stricken and unbelieving denials.

"No! You can't be! It's not true!" He was at the very end of the catwalk, his emotions raw, his face wracked with pain. He looked down behind him, and was suddenly calm. He took a deep breath and a last long look at Vader; then he closed his eyes and just let go, falling, falling, following his hand and the lightsaber into the depths below.

_Aww, Luke, why'd you have to go and do_ _that? _Vader was not amused. Looking down, he watched Luke hurtle toward a refuse outlet. _What is it with this kid _-- _always leaping into garbage chutes? _Turning suddenly he spoke into his comlink. "Prepare my ship!" He strode rapidly toward the landing platform. Now he would have to rescue his idiot son! _Power certainly doesn't always bring wisdom, does it? _He saw no irony in the thought. As a Padawan, he had done a certain amount of free-falling from heights himself, but at least there hadn't been garbage chutes or trash compactors at the bottom! Well, not usually, anyway, not on Coruscant. He briefly wondered if Luke's was a predilection related to being raised on Tatooine. Maybe it was something that teenagers did there and he had missed out because he'd left the planet and spent his teen years with the Jedi. If so, thanks be to the Force for small favors. And he would have to wean Luke from the habit; it was an unsanitary practice.

He knew exactly where Luke would be; He dispatched fighters to rescue the boy, then boarded the _Executor, _confident that he would soon have his son aboard. Inquiry as to the whereabouts of the Wookiee and the Princess elicited the unwelcome, but predictable, news that once again, they had escaped in the _Millennium Falcon, _this time taking along Calrissian, also. After a moment's silence, during which he could sense his men's fear of reprisals, he calmly asked, "Did they disconnect the hyperdrive on the _Millennium Falcon?" _In quickly dawning relief, they agreed that it had indeed been disconnected. _Well, at least **one** thing was going right! _"Good! Prepare the tractor beam. They will soon be within range."

He watched as, unexpectedly, the _Falcon _reversed its course and headed back toward the base of Cloud City, where a nearly exhausted Luke hung from some kind of aerial. Vader suddenly smiled and told his pilots to hold back -- This was getting better and better! Let Luke's friends rescue him, then Vader would have them _all_ in one fell swoop. He did not especially want Calrissian, but surely _someone_ did -- more than likely one of those bounty hunters would have a use for him. There! They had Luke! He ordered his Star Destroyer on an intercept course, the tractor beam ready.

Watching, he could sense each abortive attempt that the _Falcon _made to engage its hyperdrive. He smiled and spoke to his son through the Force -- _Join me, Luke... it is your destiny... you know it to be true_and to the small ship on the viewscreen, he whispered, "Almost within range... that's it.. that's it... come to Papa... _Now_!" The _Millennium Falcon _disappeared.

Vader stood very still. The control room was deathly silent as his men awaited retribution. But he simply turned abruptly and, without a word, left the bridge. Punishing his crew would leave him in the unenviable position of flying this monstrosity alone. Even Leia's extensive vocabulary of obscenities would be inadequate to express his feelings.

And so it was back to square one in finding the boy. At this rate, Vader mused, Palpatine would die a natural end to his unnatural life before he and Luke could rule. And Palpy was steadily becoming more and more erratic in his commands and his behavior in general. Vader guessed that senility must be setting in, but that only increased his own need for constant vigilance. A vindictively enraged and senile Emperor would be very dangerous, indeed. Resignedly, Vader sent a message that he would be arriving, as commanded, on Coruscant, but without young Skywalker.

He headed to the refresher for a long hot shower to wash away the sweaty grime from the lightsaber encounter with Luke. Perhaps it would also remove some of the distaste he felt at having given Solo to Fett; it wasn't the action itself that bothered him, but the _who; _he really wished that it had been any other bounty hunter. He had a grudging respect for the man, but association with Fett engendered revulsion and made Vader feel somehow unclean.

Under the shower, he closed his eyes and mused on his actions and reactions. He really was starting to like Leia; she was resourceful and spirited, too bad she was emotionally involved with Solo -- but she would get over it once they were apart for awhile. Surely Sidious would marry her off to one of his compliant minions, or try to make her his own Empress -- an even more repulsive thought. Vader found that he didn't want either for Leia -- she deserved better. Damn! He was starting to feel almost fatherly toward the girl, maybe she and Luke…. No, that wouldn't be good, they were both currently part of the Rebel Alliance. While Vader did not doubt where Luke's future loyalties would lie, Leia's were definitely more difficult to predict -- she'd probably remain loyal to her precious Rebellion. With a start, he realized that Leia reminded him more and more of his lost wife, who had not been willing to shift her loyalties from Jedi and democracy to Sith and Imperial rule. He regretted choking her, but she had just made him so damned angry!

Toweling himself dry, Vader noticed a tender red mark on his side -- a lightsaber burn? He winced as he touched it, but grinned in spite of himself. He hadn't noticed at the time, but Luke had succeeded in injuring him. _Bravo, my boy! You are a great swordsman! One would almost believe that Master Yoda had been instructing you…. Yoda? Surely, that ancient swords master had perished….Let me think…._ Vader frowned in an effort to recall. Yoda had escaped from the massacre on Kashyyyk, only to turn up on Coruscant to challenge Palpatine/Sidious in a monumental duel that had wrecked the Senate chamber. Struck down by Sidious, Yoda's body was never found. To all intents and purposes, he was presumed dead, but Vader and his Master had always privately assumed that he had somehow escaped and was hiding somewhere in the Galaxy, no longer a threat. Their search for him had been cursory and had effectively ended years ago. Had Luke somehow made a connection with Yoda? If so, no wonder the boy's expertise in swordsmanship was so advanced!

As he dressed, Vader mused more about Yoda and Luke. Where had Luke just come from? Some obscure system, he could recall that, but the name escaped him at present. He'd look into it, and send someone to investigate; it was not of any vast importance. The boy had been trained and trained well; Vader would just have to fine tune Luke's technique to the Sith ways, teach him to use his anger and hatred and fear. He would then be an awesomely powerful Force-user. Yes, Vader had to in fairness admit, even more powerful than himself. Surely, Luke could eliminate one senile old man where Vader himself had failed. Fully dressed, Vader picked up his lightsaber and returned to the bridge. They would soon be approaching Coruscant and an extremely angry Emperor.

* * *

As expected, the interview with his Master had not gone well. To say the Emperor was angry was an understatement. He was livid with rage. He screamed. He ranted. He even threw a little Sith lightning at Vader, but recalled himself and stopped before doing irreparable harm to his apprentice. _Well, that did it! _thought Vader as, supported on each side by a trooper, he hobbled painfully and awkwardly into the Imperial Surgical Reconstructional Center -- there was just no way he was going to let himself be taken in on a repulsorlift medical capsule, not while he was in command of his senses! _At least Palpy'l1 have to consent to replacing my knees now! Maybe even both legs entirely! Could I claim that the damage is worse than it appears? _He resolved to test the possibility.

Entering the facility, he brightened when he saw the med-droid assigned to him; it was his old friend from a few years back who had rescued him from Palpy's ceaseless wining and dining, by recommending dieting, no drinking and more exercise. "Good day, Lord Vader. They tell me that your knees are not functioning at optimum?"

_Optimum? **Optimum? **They are malfunctioning at steadily increasing rate! Give them a few minutes and they won't work at all! Droids all had a talent for understating the obvious! _However Vader suppressed his impatient thoughts and merely nodded; his jaw ached from clenching his teeth at the painful efforts to move his legs.

The emdee observed Vader's painful and increasingly halting hobble. Hobble? Lord Vader does not hobble; he moves with the arrogant self-assurance of a predatory animal…. "Oh my! They are not are they? And are the ankles...?"

Vader readily agreed that the ankles also were malfunctioning -- if they weren't already, they assuredly soon would be; his entire legs were shutting down.

A quick exam by the droid, and he heard the news that he had expected and even hoped for -- the bionics in his legs were no longer reparable and would have to be totally replaced. Suppressing his overjoyed elation -- the Empire would have to foot the bill -- Vader pressured for an upgrade in quality.

The med droid agreed; it would be a wise move, as the legs would last longer, saving the Empire credits in the long run. Not to worry, The SurgReconCenter would contact the Emperor, put Vader on extended sick leave, and handle all the details. Vader relaxed and prepared for a painful, but much desired stay in the facility. If Palpatine didn't like it, he could just lump it! After all, an apprentice who couldn't walk wouldn't be of much use to him! He awaited the pain deadening injections and allowed his mind to cut itself off from present reality. He would dream of Naboo, the lakes, -- and Padmé .

He awakened to a tingling sensation in both legs and in his left arm. Tingling that reached far beyond the remaining organic portions of his limbs. Had he merely dreamed of his life as Vader-in-the-suit? Was he still whole in body, his limbs not amputated by Kenobi? There was a heaviness to them, along with the tingle, as if they had been asleep and were reawakening. He cautiously tried moving his arm as he opened his eyes. A med-droid was watching him.

"Carefully, Lord Vader, carefully! The healing is not yet complete. We had to replace your left arm also -- it suddenly malfunctioned and began shutting down as we began surgery on your legs. What kind of cut-rate med facility did your last replacements? Surely we did not do it? The parts were all substandard, no wonder the bionics shorted out on you!"

_Why that cunning, miserly old bantha! _thought Vader. _He had them use cheap bionics and told me that they were just not making the advances in bionics that I'd hoped for! I **will** murder him! I won't wait for Luke's help! _He became aware of the droid's continuing voice.

"Of course, Lord Vader, you will have to become re-accustomed to some feeling in your limbs. It has been too long since the nerves were severed for optimal performance, but the synthetic nerve extensions should allow you to regain some sensations."

Damn! These were state-of-the-art, weren't they? He would bet that the Emperor would explode when he learned the cost of the repairs to his apprentice. He looked at the joining of the new parts -- he would _swear_ it was real skin, a bit more pinkish than his own, but other than that, it _appeared_ real….He directed a question to the droid.

The emdee's voice sounded almost amused as it replied. "It _is_ real skin, sir. The technology exists now for a partial regeneration of your own body. As I told you before, it has been too long for full regeneration; you still have artificial components -- quite a lot of them, in fact. Although the bones are of alloy, most muscular tissue and the skin covering them is your own. Of course, we could clone parts for eventual full replacements in the future but there is no time now. The Emperor becomes increasingly impatient for your return to duty."

_Clone_ parts? He shuddered at the idea of cloning any part of himself. If it were the only way... But this regeneration thing seemed to be working out pretty well. He flexed his new legs and arm. It was a bit awkward still, but he smiled -- it felt _good_"What about this one?" He waved his right arm. "When can I have this one replaced?" Although he had grown used to this one -- it had been the first loss, courtesy of Count Dooku on Geonosis, years before Mustafar and the lightsaber of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

The answer was ambiguous, but had to satisfy him -- when it also began to malfunction, but it was still in excellent condition; apparently its components were of quality materials, and why replace something that continued to function as well as that arm still did? _Droid's logic, which meant argument would be useless, _thought Vader in resignation.

Cautioned to use care and gradually increase exertions of his new limbs while the muscular tissue gained strength, Vader showered to remove any remaining bacta fluid, dressed and returned to duty. He could already feel his increased agility; he flexed his fingers, enjoying the sensation. He couldn't stop smiling -- he felt more alive than he had felt in years! He briefly wondered about his ability now to use Sith lightning, but immediately rejected the idea -- his body still contained a lot of bionic components. If only Palpy would obligingly drop dead and his son walk through the door, life would be perfect -- well, no, without his wife, it could never again be _perfect_ -- but it _would_ be pretty damned terrific!

* * *

He grasped the little ball, pulled it back and let it go. Then he idly watched the balls strike one another into motion: _tick-click-tick-click-tick-click_ -- back and forth. Soon becoming bored with just watching, he began using the Force to influence their motion -- not as easy as it looked -- there must be some sort of physics law involved. Again losing interest in the process, he looked around for some other amusement to pass the time. He had spent a lot of time lately, waiting in medical offices, longer than usual this time, but was, so far, controlling his own impatience -- he would endure these interminable checkups, if it meant a return to humanity! A stack of business cards and a jar of tongue depressors caught his eye, along with a row of data pads….

He was working on the seventh level of an elaborate construction when the human doctor finally entered -- a fortunate occurrence, as he was rapidly depleting his available supply of construction materials; that would lead to boredom which would lead to anger which would lead to….

The doctor chuckled behind him. "Trying our hand at construction, are we, Lord Vader?"

Carefully, he pulled his hand away from his project, gritting his teeth, forcing himself to _not _focus on the doctor's throat, Vader answered, "I don't know about you, Doctor, but I found that I had time on my hands. _Someone_ was late for this appointment!"

"Yes, Lord Vader, I am sorry about that. I was reviewing your files. Didn't anyone discuss your follow-up therapy with you? I can't seem to find the reference in your files…."

Missing references in the files? That development had Palpy's interference written all over it. "What therapy, Doctor? I have been allowed to return to only limited duty; I am carefully monitored during my daily light saber drills; I report in here each morning; I am not allowed off-planet to even visit my Star Destroyer! What else can you dump on me and claim is more therapy?"

"You must have adequate nutritional intake, such as plenty of blue milk, fresh vegetables, fruits, a --"

Vader interrupted with an impatient gesture. "I don't drink milk of _any_ color --it doesn't agree with me."

The physician sighed. "All right then, can you eat cheese? Do you include leafy greens in your diet? What about fish and eggs? Those all provide important vitamins and minerals, necessary for the successful regeneration to continue."

"Yes, I eat eggs; I like cheese omelets for breakfast. Leafy greens? I am not a rodent or a neek! I do generally eat whatever is before me, especially at breakfast -- eggs, sausages, cured meats, smoked fish, toasted breads, cereals, fruits, sautéed mushrooms…I eat very good breakfasts! I generally don't eat much throughout the rest of the day, as I have a tendency to gain weight easily."

"But, Lord Vader, that is my point! You are _losing_ weight. Such a phenomenon is _not_ good for the regeneration process! Regeneration requires ample caloric intake spread throughout the entire day. I think you should see a dietitian, Lord Vader, to help you plan your meals! Meanwhile, continue eating your healthy, adequate breakfasts each morning, but also eat a good lunch and a satisfying dinner at night. And until regeneration is complete, a fruit smoothie at bedtime might be a good idea…."

All that food? In one day? Vader had a bad feeling about this…. "And just how long am I to continue this food regimen, Doctor? A few months?"

"Oh, dear, no, Lord Vader. Far longer than that! Complete regeneration usually takes two or three years, and has been known to take as long as five."

Vader groaned, envisioning his movements being severely restricted for that length of time. He shook his head. "I don't think so, Doctor. I cannot wait around the planet forever. The Emperor needs my services as his Emissary; I have important duties to perform -- off planet!"

The physician laughed. "Of course, Lord Vader. We can soon release you for limited travel within the Galactic Core. Then for longer travel, with frequent exams and lab tests and evaluation of your progress. The time will pass quickly, you'll see…."

Vader shook his head. His son was out there somewhere, growing more powerful by the day, and Palpy was here -- and growing more senile by the day. Time was of the essence! Besides, he was bored.

Inside him, Anakin's voice reminded him that they had a new arm and two new legs that were of flesh and blood once again, and begged him not to jeopardize their development. Hyperspace wasn't especially beneficial for children and pregnant women, so surely it wasn't good for regenerating limbs….

Vader brushed off the worries of his alter-ego; those were just old Corellian's tales, weren't they? Besides, he didn't want to spend excessive time in hyperspace -- just up to the _Executor_ and a gentle cruise about the core systems, maybe meet Jett somewhere, he hadn't seen his friend in quite some time. He wanted to see _stars_ again! To have the galaxy laid out as jewels before him. The dizzy blur of the jump to hyperspace. He couldn't even see the stars from the Imperial Center on Coruscant. He vowed that he'd see them sooner rather than later.

* * *

As predicted, Palpatine was not pleased with the cost of Vader's 'repairs'. However, beyond muttering that Vader could have been _cloned_ for less cost, the Emperor accepted the explanation of economy in the long run. He was impatient for Vader's return to full duty, 'light duty' wasn't even worth the classification as duty. Vader couldn't travel off-planet, even to visit his flagship Star Destroyer -- some nonsense about the stress on the regeneration process. Not only had the procedure been prohibitively expensive, but for now, he couldn't even employ Vader in any reasonably useful manner! It was enough to drive a Sith to drink! So he drank Corellian brandy; it wasn't really a substitute for Alderaan ice wine, but he hadn't considered losing his preferred beverage when he had suggested Alderaan as a demonstration of the Death Star's powers….

His thoughts returned to his apprentice. Spying on the treacherous reptilian humanoid, Prince Xizor of Black Sun was all well and good, but Vader's talents would be _much_ useful elsewhere. Maybe out along the Outer Rim, intimidating Moff Jerjerrod on the Death Star. Or actively investigating rumors that the Hutts were trying to infiltrate the secret Maw installation facility for Imperial Weapons Development. Or planting false leads for the rebels -- for some reason, if Vader was involved, the Rebels were much more inclined to regard the rumor with respect. The emperor cackled. Just as long as they believed the rumors, and this next one would be their death knell. But since Vader wouldn't go, he supposed that he would have to take a jaunt out to the Death Star himself in the very near future. He shuddered. He really hated to travel….

Besides, his spies had informed him that the Princess was on Coruscant, rumored to be Prince Xizor's guest. Palpatine did not want Xizor to have Leia within his repulsively reptilian clutches -- he had his own plans for the lovely Princess of Alderaan…. She would make a lovely Empress…regal…beautiful…intelligent…and, he hoped, fruitful. For the first time in his long life, Palpatine seriously pondered a relationship with reproduction in mind. Cloning was a way to keep options open, but a child from his own seed…. He dozed off with vaguely erotic images of Leia swirling through his mind, imagining the blurred human male in the vision to be a younger version of himself, although he couldn't remember ever looking quite that romantically dashing….

* * *

Vader had finally been released for travel about the entire Galaxy. The Emperor was having one of his increasingly rare days of lucidity. He even agreed with the principle of the savings. "And now, Lord Vader, I sense that you wish to return to your search for your son. I have discovered that young Skywalker is indeed that child! Skywalker is such a common name among the humans of the Galaxy, that I did not originally make the connection to your former self."

If Palpy thought that this was big news, he _was_ losing it. Nevertheless, Vader remained courteously attentive. "Yes, my Master?"

"I sense that eventually he will come to you and your patience in this matter will be rewarded. As for now, go to the Death Star and inform Moff Jerjerrod that I will be arriving. Construction is not proceeding at a fast enough pace. I will put them back on track! Then take the fleet to the far side of the Sentry moon and wait. Trust me in this, my young apprentice; trust me. Things are proceeding just as I have foreseen." He cackled obscenely, a sound which annoyed Vader more and more.

Grinding his teeth, Vader bowed. "Yes, my Master." He turned and strode rapidly back to his shuttle. The old fool was definitely on a downward spiral if he seriously thought that Vader had not realized for quite some time that young Luke Skywalker was his son. He had made the possible connection soon after Luke's appearance on the galactic scene, then sensed it with certainty after Luke had accomplished the impossible and blown up the first so-called 'invincible' Death Star. And Vader was just as certain that Palpy had known his son's identity at least as long. Yes, Palpy was slipping further into dementia by the day. Vader would need to tread warily to save his own skin. If he was to go with the fleet, he would do it. Remain with the fleet? Vader could imagine nothing more boring; he would remain long enough to lull Palpy or until something interesting happened to catch his own attention. After all, he had always followed orders to the spirit, if not to the letter.

Vader's arrival on the Death Star was greeted with pomp and ceremony. Ignoring it all, Vader strode immediately to Moff Jerjerrod, who made a perfunctory bow.

"Welcome, back, Lord Vader. We --"

Vader cut abruptly into his greeting. "Enough! I am here to put construction of this satellite back on track!"

Jerjerrod gulped. "But Lord Vader, my men are working as fast as they can. There have been delays, materials --"

"Then tell that to the Emperor when he arrives!" Vader dismissed the excuses. "Perhaps he can find new ways to motivate your men!"

Beside him, Jerjerrod surreptitiously inserted a finger to loosen a collar that he suddenly imagined was growing tighter. "The Emperor is coming _here_? We'll get right on it, Lord Vader!"

"See that you do!" Vader summarily dismissed him. He had nothing but contempt for Jerjerrod, who was the polar opposite to Tarkin. Tarkin had been hated by his men, but they had at least respected him; he had been a capable administrator and a good leader. But Jerjerrod! He was heartily despised by those under his command. His baby -face and unsure manner did not engender their respect, he was an able enough administrator, but was weak in leadership skills. Vader suspected that the man's continuing tenure would be shortened considerably. Palpatine would not accept Jerjie's excuses for poor performance, any more than Vader had accepted his mistreatment of Aay'i'sha. Vader smiled to himself. Perhaps Jerjie would finally pay...


	15. Fourteen

Title: Vader's Quest Chronicles

Chapter 14

Timeframe: Beginning between ROTS and ANH

Disclaimer: Star Wars is the property of George Lucas. No disrespect is intended with this story. Notes: And it is already into ROTJ as Vader's quest to find his son begins to wind down...

* * *

He awakened with a start, drenched in sweat, every nerve end a-tingle. And, for a change, the memory of the dream was still vivid -- he and Padme, their naked bodies passionately entwined, heavy breathing, long yearning kisses, busy hands caressing his body -- Whew! He hadn't had dreams like that since he was a teenage Padawan! He smiled in memory -- the reality had been far better than the dreams! And now he recalled what had caused him to awaken -- her eyes, he had let himself look into her eyes and seen them turn from tender and loving to terrified. He stood and began to pace, his mind busy with memory... regrets... longing... a still strong love for his vanished wife. On another level he reveled in the ease of movement in his legs, the _natural _feel of his new limbs. He was achieving part of his secret dreams -- that of becoming less dependent upon _machinery_ for his body to function, of regaining his own _humanity. _Perhaps the erotic dreams were a sign that he was succeeding...Vader returned to bed. Maybe, the dream would return, but this time he would not look into her eyes...

* * *

In his own bedchamber, the Emperor also awakened. He sensed _another_ one of those disturbing changes in his apprentice. _Why_ couldn't Vader do his changing at more convenient times? He had interrupted a pleasant dream -- Sidious had the Princess as his sex slave, clad only in a brass bikini and chained to him...Since she couldn't become a Sith lady -- too bad; he'd liked the idea, even had chosen a name for her! -- she had, in his dream, become a Sith's slave, forced to endure his kisses and his touch. He knew that she would cringe and shudder -- it was _so_ exciting to his twisted fantasies! And now Vader had managed to interrupt! Maybe if he could go back to sleep...Sidious closed his eyes and focused on the vision of an attractive brunette in a brass bikini, shrinking from his caresses...Oh, yes! It was so real; so exciting! He slept.

* * *

On faraway Tatooine, Princess Leia, clad in a brass bikini, was chained to the disgusting slug, Jabba the Hutt. She turned her face to avoid his sloppy kisses. _Eeuw! Ugh! _She shuddered. Even her knowledge of obscenities wouldn't help her now. Jabba pulled her closer. _Somebody help me! Please, Luke, hurry; rescue me; rescue us_ _all!_

_

* * *

_

When Vader finally arose from his slumbers, he could still recall his dreams. At the memory, he felt something stir deep inside him, something he had always associated with desire for his wife. By the living Force, it was distracting. Let his Anakin-self wallow in it! He was Vader, Sith lord, above such petty lusts and desires! He tried to ignore the voice in his mind that taunted: _You wish! You are still Anakin and you know it! Deep inside you will always be Anakin Skywalker!_

_Obi-Wan, go away! I'll handle this in my own way, thank you _-- _it's private! _A sudden suspicion struck him. _It **is**_ _private, isn't it? You aren't using my dreams like some sexual fantasy holovid, are you Obi-Wan?_

_Anakin! Would I do that? _Of _course not! Although, if I had thought _of _it _-- _but no, it's not the Jedi way, so yes, it is private. You **do**_ _broadcast your thoughts pretty loudly, though, when you daydream! _The hazy face of his one-time Master grinned and winked at him, then disappeared.

_Dammit, Obi-Wan --I... _Now he would have to try to shield his _dreams_. Life just got more and more complicated. If Obi-Wan's Force ghost could pick up on his dreams, what of his present Master? _Oh, Force take it. double blast and damn! That old sarlacc's spawn Sidious will really make my_ _life miserable if he can sense them! _Quietly muttering further imprecations, Vader donned his boots, picked up his lightsaber, and left his quarters.

With all of Jerjerrod's usual overly ceremonious assembly, Vader and the Moff awaited the Emperor's arrival ort the still incomplete Death Star. Vader quietly sighed. _Can't this man do **anything** without overindulging in ceremonious clap-trap? _Dinner last evening had been excruciatingly dull, with stilted conversation and too much poorly prepared and ill chosen food. Vader nostalgically recalled Aay'i'sha's brief tenure as Jerjie's personal chef -- that little Twi'lek excelled in the kitchen! He didn't need his Master's powers to foresee another such evening tonight. Only with Palpy's presence to exacerbate the boredom. He hoped that he wouldn't fall asleep between courses. At least Jerjerrod was a teetotaler and had not served wine -- thanks be for small favors! He hoped that Palpy hadn't brought his own supply...

The shuttle landed, and as the Emperor descended the ramp, Vader knelt, surreptitiously motioning a hesitant Jerjerrod to do likewise. Might as well keep the Commander in what favor he could -- Vader certainly did not want to be saddled with the command of this incomplete battle station!

* * *

Palpatine was angry -- he had been awakened from a sound sleep and a very pleasant dream. He summoned one of his guards. "_What_ is happening? What is that abominable racket?" For sirens were blaring and there were heavy running footfalls outside his quarters. 

The guard looked into the corridor and quietly questioned a passing trooper, then returned followed by the trooper.

"Well," snapped the Emperor, "what is going on? I will not put up with having my rest disturbed! Out with it, man, _now_!"

"It's a drill, Your Highness." The trooper had a bad feeling about this.

"A _drill_? In the middle of the night? What incompetent idiot ordered that insanity?"

The trooper sighed in resignation. He was going to die, he knew it. "Um…er... _you_ did, Sir." His last thoughts were that this must be the Imperial retirement plan for clone troopers. His body hit the wall and fell lifeless to the floor.

Palpatine smirked in satisfaction and waved for his guards to remove the body. "Now, contact Moff Jerjerrod. I _will_ have an answer!"

Jerjerrod's figure appeared on the holopad. "Yes, Your Highness? Did you have a question concerning the drill?" He appeared calm on the surface, but his eyes held an edge of fear.

"One of your _...late... _idiot troopers tried to tell me that I ordered this drill! Would I do something so stupid as to order a drill during my scheduled sleeping cycle?" Palpatine's tone dared him to agree with the question's premise.

Jerjerrod visibly swallowed. "Uh... no, Sir. Of course not. He must have been mistaken. I'll look into it and cancel the drill immediately, Sir!" He saluted smartly.

"See that you do!" snapped the Emperor. "And do not disturb my slumbers again!" He ended the transmission. At least it hadn't been Vader this time! He nodded in satisfaction at the sudden silence and returned _to _bed.

With arrogant purpose, Vader strode into Jerjerrod's command center. _Jerjie has certainly stepped into a boatload of bantha doo this time! Any idiot knows better than to disturb Palpy's ...umm... 'beauty sleep;' What had the man been thinking? Doesn't he value his career at all?_

Jerjerrod snapped to attention. "Lord Vader. To what do I owe the honor of --"

"Just be quiet and listen, if you want to retain command of this battle station. You are in a precarious position, Jerjerrod. Palpatine will _not_ forget last night's fiasco!"

"But... but..." stuttered the Moff. "He himself ordered the drill! I was only following _his_ orders...

"Jerjerrod. He is an indolent, senile old man. He has had things arranged to suit his own satisfaction for more than twenty five years. Would he now begin to arrange things to inconvenience himself? Even when he set up his own kidnapping by General Grievous, he was in less danger than he was during his rescue. Watch yourself, or he will decide that _you_ have become an irksome inconvenience, to be permanently removed at will!"

Jerjerrod swallowed hard. "But, Lord Vader, were I to fail to follow his orders..."

"_Exactly_ my point, man!" Vader was losing his patience with the Moff"Follow his orders, but do not disturb his comfort. In other words, don't call a drill at midnight when he is asleep! If you know for a fact that he is awake, fine. Otherwise, be creative. Follow his orders to the spirit -- if he wants a drill, give him a drill-- but when he is _awake_!" Vader's already considerable dislike of Moff Jerjerrod was rapidly increasing. The man was an _idiot_!

"If you say soLord Vader. But he did not even remember ordering any drill at all."

"I _said_ he's getting senile. But he does have periods of extremely sharp memory. Just do what he says without disturbing his sleep -- or his meals. Do you understand, Jerjerrod?" _Because, much as I dislike you, I do not wish his favorite Sith-powered wrath upon you..._

Jerjerrod nodded. "Yes sir, Lord Vader. I will do my best."

Vader nodded curtly and left the command center, hopeful that Jerjerrod would show at least a semblance of common sense. _Now to run interference with Palpy, who has assuredly by now convinced himself that young Jerjie is a totally incompetent idiot... _Vader wasn't altogether certain that he could succeed in his mission.

Vader approached his Master and knelt. "Master, I have spoken with Moff Jerjerrod. He was told that you ordered a drill, but there was a miscommunication over the timing." He stood -- new knees or not, he refused to kneel until given leave to rise! "He sends apologies, and will seek out and punish the miscreant who caused last night's fiasco." There! _That _ought to smooth things over...

Palpatine looked at him narrowly. "And do you believe him, Vader? He seems to have become incompetent if he cannot maintain better control here. He should have sensed the _wrongness _of the order!"

"I agree, Master. He _should_ have sensed that something was not quite right. But he is, after all, not Sith; He is an ordinary human, and as such, is prone to occasional errors in judgment. He will not so err again." _Force be, let that be true! This incomplete pile of space junk is so poorly constructed that all the drills in the Galaxy wouldn't help it! Firing that super laser cannon will likely cause the entire satellite to blow! _Vader prayed that he would be _anywhere_ else in the Galaxy when that happened.

* * *

Vader gave a jaw-cracking yawn and wondered _What does Palpy want **now? **Don't disturb **his** sleep, but it was perfectly fine for him to disturb mine! I have to get off this pile of space junk and away from Jerjie's all around incompetence and Palpy's unpredictable paranoid senility before I go crazy and get shipped off, babbling incoherently, to a padded room...! _He entered the Emperor's throne room, formerly the main command center of the Death Star, commandeered due to the huge round view port window that it contained. The ever present Imperial bodyguards noted his presence and nodded. Vader approached his silent Master and knelt. "Yes, Master?" 

Palpatine gave no sign that he was aware of Vader's presence, but continued to silently stare out into the immense star-studded void of space.

Vader surreptitiously shifted his weight; his knees were starting to feel the strain -- a hazard of having real, flesh and blood ones again, but a hazard he welcomed. Was Palpy even awake? He glanced at the guards -- they stood silently vigilant. Vader didn't dare stand until his Master at least acknowledged his presence. And one leg was going to sleep. _Oh, bantha crud! Now I'll look like a real idiot when I try to stand! Is he doing this to deliberately annoy me? Come on, Palpy! Get with the program! **You **summoned me!_

Finally, Palpatine turned his attention back inside the room. He started as he noticed the silently kneeling figure of his apprentice.

"Lord Vader! Why are you here? Has Jerjerrod performed another incompetent idiocy? I sensed nothing"

"No, my Master." Vader rose somewhat awkwardly. "_You_ summoned me, sir." He cautiously shifted his weight from one leg to the other and back again. _Aaah! That's better..._

"I did? Are you certain? For I do not recall doing so" He regarded Vader with sudden suspicion. "Are you trying to confuse me? Are _you_ also a part of this plot against me?"

_Uh-oh! Paranoid Palpy alert…._Vader chose his reply with care and deliberation. "There is no plot, sir, that I an aware of. So no, I am not a part of it. Have you sensed something sinister?" _It's probably just more of your own paranoid delusions..._

"There is a plot against me!" quietly hissed the Emperor. "There is always a plot. Even among my own guards! I had to remove three of them! They were insisting that I indulge in frequent 'ritual c1eansings' and wanted me to change into new robes all the time. I knew what they were doing... they thought to make me vulnerable! Well, I put a stop to that!"

_Oh, make me a bantha brained idiot! _thought Vader_, No wonder I haven't seen Nerak lately; I just thought that he was off duty whenever I happened to be around. Poor Nerak! He was almost human..._He was dimly aware that his Master's delusional paranoid ramblings continued and that they were starting to sound vaguely familiar. _Hey! Wait a minute..._

"...since they do not trust you, you must be the only one unaware of their plot against me, Go, Lord Vader, do what you must..."

_Oh, no! No! _Vader vividly remembered what had followed. He silently mouthed the words as Palpatine uttered them.

"...show no mercy..."

And Lord Vader had shown no mercy, even to the younglings. That act he had always regretted, and Anakin had wept at the apparent necessity to slaughter even the children of the Jedi Temple.

Palpatine had stopped speaking and was staring at him. "Well, Lord Vader? What are you waiting for? Go, destroy all within the Jedi Temple"

"Yes, Master." Vader turned and left the makeshift throne room. Palpy was really off the deep end, thinking that events of some twenty odd years ago were happening now. _Oh, Son! Where are you? I have to locate you and then together we can overthrow this senile old man before he destroys everyone around him!_

Vader returned to his quarters, but instead of sleep, he prepared to meditate. Perhaps he could sense the whereabouts of his son. Or at least calm the sharply escalating feelings of urgency within himself.

_Look where you've gotten us **now**, Mr. Big Shot Sith Lord! You are going to get us both **dead,** that's where! Dead, dead, dead! As in not alive, one with the Force -_

_Shut up, Anakin! You were the one who wanted Power, before I even really existed! So don't blame me! If you hadn't opened yourself to the Power of the Sith, I wouldn't even be here. And I'm **trying** to find a way out of this mess...! _Anakin's voice continued to make rude comments in his mind, interrupting his meditations. Finally, one comment made sense.

_He told you to go, so go! So what if we've already done his bidding in the matter. Just get us **away **from here before he goes completely bonkers...If he asks, tell him that you're hunting Jedi, that's what he told you to do, isn't it?_

Vader thought it over. Hunting Jedi... well, Luke was something of a Jedi now, at least he thought he was. Yes, he'd tell old Palpy that he was going to hunt down a JedI…. He closed himself off from his surroundings and from Anakin's voice within and let himself feel the Force, reaching out with his feelings, searching the Galaxy for his son's presence. And felt him, much closer than expected, along with a smaller presence, the feeling of _another, _a newly developing vergence in the Force...

Startled, Vader's eyes flew open. Did Luke have a child? Had he been out sowing his own seed among the Rebel women? For that was definitely a second living presence. But it did not feel childlike, just undeveloped. And _familiar, _somehow, as if he knew the person...Vader frowned in concentration, then smiled. Maybe it was a child of Obi-Wan's! Perhaps he hadn't remained the perfect, attachment-free Jedi, true to his vows all these years! As he recalled, there were some pretty attractive girls on Tatooine, nothing compared to Padme, of course.… The idea intrigued him, and he tried to imagine his former Master with a girl, seducing her with his Jedi mind tricks. It was of no use; he simply could not picture it. _Maybe if the girl seduced Obi- Wan? Oh yeah! If that man had enough of his favorite alcoholic cocktail... What had it been? Something sort of blue that had really packed a punchAh, yes, **now** I can imagine..._And Vader dozed off, as Obi-Wan turned into Anakin and the faceless, anonymous girl he'd imagined became Padme.

For a wonder, Palpatine was lucid this morning and had commanded Vader to join him at breakfast. Vader surveyed the buffet table. Well, apparently Jerjie's new cook understood breakfast entrees...He filled his plate and sat across from his Master. "Did you have a specific reason to command my presence this morning, Master? I am not objecting, just inquiring."

Palpatine chewed deliberately and then swallowed before replying. Vader took the opportunity to quickly eat a few bites from his own plate.

"Yes, my boy. I want you to go with the fleet to the far side of Endor. The end of the Rebellion is within sight! This battle station is fully operational and the Rebels have been allowed to learn of its existence and position." He cackled with self-satisfied glee. "Soon we will finally end the conflict and restore peace to my Empire!"

"But, Master, what of the rumors of the Rebel fleet massing? Surely --"

The Emperor interrupted. "It is of no matter, my apprentice. Rejoin your own command ship -which is it _now_Vader -- _Exactor, Destructor, _or _Executor! _Or is it still another one? You seem to change your Star Destroyers like most people change their clothing! I can't keep them straight..."

"The _Executor, _sir." _And why in the name of a Corellian hell did he care? Unless it was for the purposes of spying arrangements, that is..._

"Rejoin it and wait. The time is at hand."

Vader paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. "Am I to be allowed to finish my breakfast first, sir? I don't have much left." Unfortunately, he had eaten so fast that he hadn't really tasted any of it.

Palpatine cackled. "Of course, Lord Vader. We mustn't let you leave hungry. We well remember how much you appreciate good food. Have some more eggs and toast. And these sausages are excellent. Try this fruit -- it's something new from a recently discovered planet just beyond the Outer Rim." He heaped some of each suggestion onto Vader's plate.

Vader tried some of each, declared himself satiated, and excused himself. Now he would have indigestion for the next few hours. The amount of food wasn't the problem; It was the speed with which he had consumed it! He muffled a belch, and headed for his shuttle, the Emperor's irritatingly maniacal laughter echoing in his ears.

* * *

The Star Destroyer restlessly patrolled the Endor system, mimicking Vader's own restlessness. For he found that he could not remain still. He wanted action. So his ship patrolled. On one pass near the Death Star, he sensed a presence -- Luke! And that _other..._He hurried to the control room. 

On the viewscreen was a Lambda class shuttle, requesting clearance for shield passage.

"Where is that shuttle going?"

Admiral Piett asked, "Shuttle Tydirium, what is your cargo and destination?"

"Technical personnel and parts for the Sanctuary moon of Endor."

Vader stared at the shuttle a moment, reaching out through the Force. "Do they have a code for clearance?"

"Yes sir, Lord Vader. It's an older one, but it does check out. I was about to give clearance. Should I hold them, sir?"

_Vader_ briefly continued to stare at the shuttle before replying. "No. Let them pass. I will deal with them myself. Have my shuttle prepared. I must consult with the Emperor." He turned abruptly and strode away, his mind in turmoil. Luke was on that shuttle!


	16. Fifteen

Title: Vader's Quest Chronicles

Summary: Darth Vader learns that he has a son and the search begins

Chapter 15

Timeframe: Beginning between ROTS and ANH

Disclaimer: Star Wars is the property of George Lucas. No disrespect is intended with this story.

* * *

Vader hurried to the Emperor's throne room aboard the Death Star. He paused briefly to compose his thoughts before seeking admittance. 

Palpatine eyed his entrance with displeasure. "I told you to remain with the fleet, Vader. Why have you come here?"

"He's here, Master. I felt his presence!"

"Your son? Where? On the Forest Moon?"

Vader nodded. "Yes, Master." _Come on, bantha breath! You surely aren't as slow as all that!_

"Are you certain? Strange that _I_ have not sensed his presence… Perhaps your relationship makes you more attuned to him. Are you clear in your feelings in this matter, Lord Vader?"

"Yes, Master, they are clear. I felt him. He has landed with a small Rebel force -- they were in the shuttle..." _Of course, my feelings are clear, you senile old fool! He is my son, I have sought him for years, faced him once with lightsabers -- we have a connection that you can **never** share! And he is now so close..._Vader's impatience was a palpable force, permeating the chamber.

"Patience, my young apprentice! Trust me. He will come to you. I have sensed this"

_Right. Just like you sense everything after the fact. He's already here!_

Palpatine continued, issuing a command. "You will go to the Sanctuary Moon and wait. Your patience in this will be rewarded; he will present himself to you. His compassion for his father will be his undoing, for you must bring him to me. Together we will turn him to the Dark Side and complete his training."

"I will do thy bidding, Master." And Vader bowed, then turned to go. _Right. Like I am ever going to let you have any real control over my son! I will train him in the ways of the Sith, but tempered with Jedi discipline. I will bring him to you, only long enough to destroy you. Then together **we**, as father and son, will rule this Galaxy as it should be ruled!_

Behind him, Sidious began to think on how best to control two Skywalkers, father and son. The son must destroy the father, true, but first he needed further training, and that could best be done by the boy's father, Lord Vader. The delicious irony tickled the Sith Master's twisted sense of humor and he collapsed in hideous cackling laughter.

Vader went directly to the shield generator on the surface, commanding the _Executor_ to return to the fleet until called for. He paced the facility's interior, theoretically inspecting it, but seeing nothing except Luke's face, filled with pain and denial. He hadn't meant to harm the boy, just to disarm him. Could they get past that point without difficulty? Would Luke acknowledge their relationship? He sensed that things would work out... he would complete his son's training. He recognized in himself a longing for a close relationship with Luke, but it was all mixed up with Anakin's desires and doubts; he knew not where the difference lay, if, indeed, a difference existed at all. For perhaps the first time, Vader realized that he was more and more still Anakin Skywalker. _You were right, Obi-Wan, old friend; you were right. I **am** still Anakin; we're no longer splintered into separate personalities, but are fast fusing into one single person again. And it is Luke who has brought this about…. Thank you, my son..._

On the Death Star, Sidious frowned in annoyance. What was Vader _doing_? For Vader's Force signature was garbled, almost beyond recognition. He had a bad feeling about this... Concentrating his will, Sidious attempted to regain dominance over his apprentice, failure was not an option, for failure would signal a loss of his own powers, and there could be no loss there. He was Darth Sidious, Sith Master! Ah! There! Vader's signature was once more strong and clearly his own. Sidious smiled in relief and relaxed.

Vader shook himself. What was he _thinking_? He was _Vader_, Darth Vader, Sith Lord, apprentice to Darth Sidious...He forced himself to abandon his inner thoughts and continued with the inspection tour, until the comlink chirped for attention. The outer patrols were bringing in a lone Rebel who had surrendered himself to them. Something inside Vader lurched and his stomach went queasy. Luke! He awaited the patrol's imminent arrival.

A group of storm troopers exited the elevator and parted to reveal the figure in their midst. Dressed completely in black, his hands confined by binders, a calm and confident young man stood before Vader. One of the men spoke to Vader. "This is the Rebel who surrendered himself to us; he denies that there are more, but my men are searching the area. He carried only this."

Vader took the proffered lightsaber and activated it. He admired its pulsing luminous blade a moment, then moved it in a slow arc before turning it off. "Your skills are indeed complete, my son."

"Yes, Father; I have crafted my own weapon; I no longer use yours." Luke looked directly at him as he spoke.

Behind his mask, Vader felt pride in Luke's courage and smiled to himself. "So you have accepted the truth..."

"I have accepted that you were once Anakin Skywalker, the good man who was my father."

"That name no longer has any meaning for me, Son." _But I lie, only I dare not say so aloud!_

"It is the name of your true self, Father; you have only forgotten."

_Forgotten? Never! I have just begun to accept that I always have been and always will be, at heart, Anakin Skywalker! _But he remained silent, as Luke continued.

"I know that there is still good in you; the Emperor hasn't driven it completely from you. You will not destroy me. You could not do it before, you won't do it now. And you won't take me before the Emperor."

Vader felt the confidence of this young man before him, heard words that he ached to heed. "I _must_ obey my Master, you don't know the power of the Dark Side, my son."

"I will not turn, Father; you will be forced to destroy meSearch your feelings; do not do this. I feel the conflict within you. Let go of your hate..."

_Hate? There is no longer any hate in me for anyone except my Master, the sarlacc's spawn who has ruined my life, kept me from normal love and affection…. And yet, such is his power that I must obey…._ "The Emperor will show you the true power of the Dark Side, my son. He is your master now." He spoke softly, sadly. "It is too late for me, Luke." _And perhaps for you as well... _He signaled the guards to take Luke aboard his shuttle. Just before they reached the doors, he heard his son's sad quiet voice.

"Then my father is truly dead."

Within Vader, Anakin vowed "Never! Not until my last breath is drawn. I am here, my son. You see Vader, but I am here..." For once, Vader let the voice speak; there was no one to hear the nearly inaudible murmur, and it spoke words he wished himself to utter.

* * *

Palpatine waited. His senses had awakened him, told him that events were about to climax. At last, he would possess _both_ Skywalkers, father and son. Destiny would play into his hands. And soon, the so-called 'Chosen One' would cease to exist. He cackled in mirthless glee. Sidious would train and control the son. There would be no need for fear once he had turned to the Dark Side; The son would then belong to Sidious, body and soul, more completely than ever had the father, for a part of Vader had always remained tied to the memories of his wife, something that Sidious had failed to foresee. And Sidious understood now the other mistake he had made with Vader -- he had allowed himself to develop a mild fondness for the boy. There would be no such nonsense with the younger Skywalker. He shivered as a chill of premonition swept down his spine. Surely that was _Vader's_ demise he felt and not his own...Another chill swept over him. Perhaps it was just cold in here... and rather drafty. He _wasn't_ losing any of his powers! He ordered the temperature in the already overly warm throne room be increased yet again, but the chill within himself remained. As the chill persisted, so too did the niggling fear inside him grow. Destiny approached.

* * *

Despite the continued churning of his stomach, Vader brought the shuttle into another of his flawless landings in the Death Star shuttle bay. With Luke beside him, displaying a quiet confidence that Vader admired and wished he could himself feel, they entered the elevator to the throne room.

Again Luke spoke quietly. "Don't do this, Father. Do not give me over to the Emperor. You do not wish to, I feel it. The conflict within you grows stronger…."

"The power of the Dark Side cannot be defied, my son, I must do that which my Master asks. Soon you also will feel its power. Join me, before it is too late -- together we can overthrow him, father and son. It is our destiny! He senses that your power grows stronger, and fears your potential..."

"Never, Father. I will never turn. You'll have to destroy me first." Luke was quietly firm.

"If that is your destiny, Son." _Force, let that not be so! _Vader thought in agonized fear. _Please, let that not be so! I do not want to destroy my son! _He looked at Luke as the elevator opened and quietly murmured a benediction he had nearly forgotten. "Then may the Force be with you." Luke gave no sign that he had heard; Vader thought that perhaps it was Anakin who had said it... but then, _he_ was Anakin, wasn't he? He followed Luke up the steps toward the Emperor.

Ever a master of the dramatic pause, the Emperor for a few moments continued to gaze out at the distant stars, before turning in his chair to face back into the room. He studied Luke intently and then nodded. "And so, Lord Vader, this is your son, the fruit of your seed. There _is_ a resemblance to yourself, before your unfortunate...mishap. Yes, I can see it. And I can _feel_ it. The Force is strong in him..." He closed his eyes a moment, breathed deeply a time or two, then opened his eyes and gave an evil smile. "Yes. Very strong. Welcome, Young Skywalker. Your destiny awaits you!" He waved a finger at the binders on Luke's wrists. " You no longer need these." They fell to the floor and Luke, still silent and wary, massaged his left wrist.

After a puzzled moment, Vader recalled Luke's artificial right hand and his own part in the necessity for it. He glanced down at his own right hand, amputated by Dooku so many years ago, the only one now still totally artificial. _How alike we are fast becoming...It only wants your turning to make the transformation complete, both of us Sith, owing allegiance to this cruel tyrant. I don't want to destroy you, but neither do I want him to control you. **We** must destroy **him**! I can't do it alone, Son. I need your strength…. _As Vader's thoughts rambled, he was vaguely aware of the evil old man's slimy blandishments directed at Luke. He could sense Luke's wavering resolve, his sudden momentary vision of what _could_ be -- destroy the Emperor and Vader, become Emperor himself...And then sensed it as suddenly pass, as the good within Luke reasserted itself. _My son, you are a great Jedi, more powerful than even that old spawn of evil realizes..._

Luke looked toward his lightsaber where it rested beneath the Emperor's right hand. It trembled slightly, and moved a fraction toward him.

"Ooooh, good! Good!" cooed the Sith Master. "You want _this_!" He patted Luke's weapon. "Go on, take it! Strike me down! Unleash your anger and hate. Then your journey toward the Dark Side will be complete!" His lips curled into the ugly mockery of a smile.

Luke stood still and confident. "You are wrong, Your Majesty. I'll never turn!" His voice rang with conviction. His eyes flickered to the developing view outside in space.

"Oh, you're thinking of your friends out there --" Palpatine gestured toward the Rebel fleet just coming out of hyperspace. "I'm so sorry, but they are in for an unfortunate surprise from this armed and fully operational battle station!" His smile at Luke's startled response sent chills even through Vader. The Emperor spoke into a comlink. "Moff Jerjerrod, you may fire at will!"

A steadily building subsonic hum culminated in a burst of energy that vaporized a Rebel ship; Luke's lightsaber flew into his hand in full blazing readiness. Finally allowing himself to react, Luke snarled and sprang at the Emperor, flourishing his weapon. Vader's eyes widened at the surge of anger in his son, but some inner compulsion forced him to block Luke's attack. Their lightsabers met with hissing energy above the Emperor's head. Palpatine had not moved, but his maniacal laughter gave unnerving accompaniment to the thrum and hiss of the lightsabers as Luke arid Vader dueled around him.

"Yes, Young Skywalker, the Force is strong in you, but so is your anger! Use it! Strike your father down and become my apprentice in his place!"

Vader felt Luke's will waver, the temptation again rising in the boy. _No, Luke, don't listen to him! He's the slimy, manipulative sarlacc's spawn who has ruined my life and would do the same to you! He'll suck you in and bleed dry your very soul! _His fear for his son caused him to lose concentration and a misstep, coupled with Luke's steady capable swordsmanship, sent Vader tumbling down ,the steps.

Luke followed, then paused, and powered off his weapon. "I will not fight you, Father!" As Vader rose, Luke quickly stepped into shadows beneath the raised platform.

The Emperor stood and moved forward, anxious to see and hear all. He smirked in satisfaction. The boy was indeed stronger than he had foreseen; he would make a powerful Sith, worthy of his training as the apprentice of Darth Sidious!

Unwilling to be a silhouetted target if he followed Luke, Vader paced at the edge of the darkness where his son lurked. "Come out, my son, join me. The Dark Side beckons you, I know it Together --"

Luke's voice repeated, "I will not fight you, Father, nor will I turn to the Dark Side."

"It is unwise to lower your defenses, my son. I do not want to destroy you, but if that is your destiny..." He sensed his Master creeping closer, the better to hear. _Go away, Palpy! Leave us to settle this between us!_

Luke's voice was moving as he paced in the darkness on silent feet. "I will not fight you, nor will you destroy me. I sense the conflict within you, Father. You could not kill me before, and you won't destroy me now!" Luke's voice drew closer. Vader could almost see him, one shadow moving among many.

Vader's voice was sorrowful as he replied. "You underestimate the power of the Dark Side, Luke. I must obey. H you will not fight, then, much as I might wish otherwise, you will meet your destiny!"

"H that is my destiny, then so be it, but I refuse to fight my own father." The quiet conviction in Luke's voice gave Vader pause. And then he sensed Luke's thoughts -- another? The second. vergence in the Force that Vader had felt! _Sister? Oh, no, Luke! _Anakin suddenly surfaced inside Vader. _Hide your thoughts before **he** senses them..._

Sidious, already aware of Luke's thoughts, continued his unnerving evil cackling, compelling Vader's unwilling cooperation. "Sister?" rumbled Vader's voice, sounding foreign to his own ears. "Your thoughts betray you. Now Obi- Wan's failure is complete! If you will not turn, perhaps she will!"

_Leia? Princess Foul-Mouth? Leia of the Thousand Curses? She's my daughter? _Incongruously, he wanted to laugh at the revelation, even as he wanted to bite back his words and hide her existence and identity from Sidious.

The implied threat to the safety of his twin did what personal danger could not Luke leapt at his father, his lightsaber furiously swinging, his anger and fear lending him the power to force Vader back, and back again. The Emperor remained safely out of harm's way, but kept alert, his insane chuctde the only sound other than the thrumming hiss of the lightsabers.

_Whoa! Hey, Son! Please, I didn't want to hurt you, and I certainly don't want -_

Luke's furiously slashing weapon sent his father to his knees and then suddenly found a target Vader's right hand, still clutching his red Sith blade, flew into the depths below. Vader collapsed in shock.

Luke stopped then, regarding his father's exhausted form. He looked at the remains of Vader's artificial hand, then down at his own right hand, still holding the hissing lightsaber. He lifted that hand, shook his head, and deactivated the weapon, throwing it aside. His arm fell to his side and he looked fully at the approaching Emperor.

"Good, Young Skywalker! Good! Your anger has made you powerful indeed! Kill him and your turn to the Dark Side will be complete!" His chilling smile held anticipation of a final triumph over the Chosen One of Jedi prophecy.

Again, Luke shook his head. "You are wrong, Your Majesty! You've failed; I will never turn to the Dark Side! I am a Jedi, like my father before me!"

As Vader struggled upright, his thoughts pleaded for the boy. _Beware, my son. You do me honor, but the old man holds the power of the Dark Side. He will destroy us both, and then turn his will on Leia..._

"Then, young Jedi." the Emperor derisively spat the words, "you will die!" He raised his hands as Vader watched in helpless horror. Sith lightning coursed from his Master's fingertips, attacking the defenseless and unsuspecting Luke.

At first, the young Jedi used the power of the Force to repel the attack, but as the vindictive Emperor increased the power and frequency of the bolts, he was overwhelmed and writhed in agony. The Emperor's eyes glowed with insane intensity, and his constant laughter sounded inhuman, as he prepared another onslaught on his victim.

"Help me, Father! Please"

Vader wanted to look away, but his eyes remained glued to Luke's pain-wracked form. _Son, I'm so sorry! I never wanted this! Why are you so stubborn? Agree to turn, he'll stop! _Inside him Anakin knew otherwise, and compelled Vader's steps behind the maniacal old man. Intent upon his task, Sidious failed to notice the cautious movements of his apprentice. Vader's thoughts continued to belie his movements. _I can't really **do** anything, son! I know it hurts, I've been there. But it will fry every circuit in my body... And then we'll both die..._

Again Luke's agonized voice cried out. "Please... Father...Help…."

The Emperor paused briefly, preparing for the final onslaught. "Young fool! Only now, at the end, do you recognize the full power of the Dark Side!" He raised his hands again.

"Father --!" Luke's cry was barely above a whisper, but rose abruptly to a scream as his body was once again assaulted by the powerful jolts.

_Curse it all, I can't watch this! _Vader closed his eyes, and finally allowed Anakin to take full control of the body they had shared for so many years. With fading consciousness, he heard Anakin's thoughts: _You are my only son! If one of the Skywalkers must die, let it be me! I'm not afraid of death! Not for myself, not if it will save you, my son...All right, Emperor Palpatine, Darth. Sidious, sarlacc's spawn of Sith evil, prepare to meet **your** destiny!_

And Anakin Skywalker reached for the unaware embodiment of evil.


	17. Sixteen

Title: Vader's Quest Chronicles

Chapter 16

Timefrarne: Beginning between ROTS and ANH

Disclaimer: Star Wars is the property of George Lucas. No disrespect is intended with this story.

Notes: Only the Epilogue remains after this chapter. And yes, this has wandered into an AU story. That is just the direction "my" Darth Vader demanded the story go. I hope reading it has entertained you as much as writing it has entertained me! May the Force be with you.

* * *

He lifted the shrieking old man high overhead and with a sense of determined satisfaction, hurled him into the depths of the station's core. As he did so, he heard himself borrowing liberally from Leia's extensive vocabulary of epithets -- _Thanks, Leia_, he thought, _but you really shouldn't have used such language. And now that I know you are **my** daughter, you are in for a lecture! If I survive, that is! _He desperately tried to catch himself as his momentum nearly carried him over the edge after Palpatine. 

Exhausted and in pain himself, Luke grabbed his father and they both collapsed. Anakin had no doubts about his son's survival, but he expected his own body to begin a spectacular series of malfunctions. However, nothing happened, except in the remains of his right arm, which had gone completely useless. Awaiting what he felt was his own impending death. Anakin let the exhaustion overtake him -- _That corpulent old sarlacc's spawn had been **heavy**, especially with only one of my hands of any real use. And that lethal back washing of Sith lightning didn't make it any easier!_

Luke struggled to his feet, took a few deep breaths, then reached his arms around his father to help him up. "Come on, Father. We have to get off this satellite before it blows!" Luke got the older man onto his feet, and together the made their halting way to the shuttle bay.

Thanks to Vader's reputation for ruthless revenge, his personal shuttle was one of the few remaining. At the bottom of its ramp, they stopped to rest.

"Luke, help me to take this mask off." He wanted the cursed thing _off_, and there was no way he could manage the latches with only one hand. Besides, his head itched -- _unbearably_!

Luke protested. "Father, you'll die!"

"Well, there's certainly no stopping that now! But, Luke, I think that it's not going to be for quite awhile1 feel remarkably well, despite the amount of lethal energy I absorbed from the backwash! Are _you_ all right, Son?" He directed his question at Luke who nodded.

With the helmet and mask off, Anakin felt free. He reached up to scratch his head and encountered -- hair? He remembered the stupid hairpiece. Well, it had been worth a try; he pulled it off, grinned at Luke and stood up. "Come on, Luke, you're right -- this thing is going to blow. And," he added, "you were right about me, too. There _is_ still good in me -- and I have a lot to try to make up for; I just hope I have many years left to me, because it'll take years to atone for only a small part of my Sith lord inhumanity.

"By, the way, I guess that I'm the heir-apparent to the Imperial throne. Want to help me rule? You can be Prince Luke, and I'll be... uh... Emperor Skywalker." It sounded silly, even as he said it.

"Father! You _have_ to be kidding! I'm a Jedi! And so are you; that is, if you really have renounced your ties to the Dark Side and the Sith lord is gone."

Luke expertly piloted them out of the bay and away from the rapidly disintegrating Death Star. His father sat quietly and merely watched. _Luke_, he thought, _you are every bit as good a pilot as I was at your age -- you fly like I do, you let the Force flow through you and guide you, tell you what your next move should be..._He relaxed and closed his eyes, content to place himself in his son's capable hands.

"Uh, Father? Back there, you…er... uh... used some rather... um... _colorful_ phrases; I'd never heard most of them before. where did you pick up...?"

He opened his eyes at Luke's question and began chuckling. "Brace yourself, Son. I learned a lot of them from your sister!" He burst into laughter at Luke's shocked expression. "Believe me, son, she has an incomparable vocabulary of curses." He then gave Luke a brief synopsis of Leia's capture and interrogation aboard the first Death Star. By the time they landed on the Forest Moon, they were laughing easily together, trading stories of their dealings with Leia, and Luke was calling him 'Dad'.

As they prepared to leave the shuttle, Luke hesitated, "Dad, how do I introduce you? What name? Are you Vader or Anakin? Because I don't think you'll be very welcome as Vader!"

Understatement of the millennium, in his father's estimation. "Anakin Sky walker, of course! Vader is dead; he died with Palpatine." He glanced down at his clothing -- the 'Vader suit'! Damn! "Listen, Luke, can you get me some clothes? This body armor has to go! And," he suddenly caught a whiff of his own rank body odor, "I really need a shower!"

Luke looked at him a moment. "I think I can find something of Han's -- he's closer to your size than I am. I don't know about boots, thoughAnd a shower? I'm not --"

"Don't worry about boots -- these are new, anyway, especially made for me. Just find me some _clothes_! And get some clean ones for yourself, as well! I'll be in the shower." He turned toward what Luke had assumed was a closet. Sensing Luke's confusion, he laughed. "This is my ship; I had a shower facility installed. You'll find that cleanliness is just one of my little idiosyncrasies. Hurry and find us clean clothes and you can take a turn in the shower! Oh! And Luke, can you find me a cloak, one with a hood?"

Quirking an eyebrow at his father's last request, Luke nodded and left the shuttle on his mission of wardrobe replenishment. Anakin entered the refresher, closed the door, and stripped. _This is going to feel **so** good!_

Hampered somewhat by the lack of his hand, he still managed to be finished and was wearing a towel when Luke returned. The pants, shirt and vest all belonged to Han, but the Jedi cloak was Luke's own -- it would be a bit short, but it had the requested hood. While Luke showered, his father dressed. He wasn't sure about the white shirt -- he'd have preferred black -- but the sleeves were nicely full. Surveying his reflection, he decided that he liked the swashbuckling effect ... might be a nice change, after all the years of wearing unrelieved black.

Luke finished his shower and joined his father. "Thanks, Dad. That felt good. I could get used to regular showers! I'm guessing that you remember how infrequent a real bath was on Tatooine?"

Anakin shuddered -- it was something he had spent years trying to forget. "Surely, Luke, you get to bathe more often now? I know that it can easily become an addictive obsession after living on Tatooine"

"Sure, Dad, I know, but it has been awhile since I had a good long _hot_ shower." He pulled on his boots and stood, then noticed his father's unshod feet. "Uh, Dad? Were you planning to wear your boots, or just carry them?"

Anakin raised the remains of his right arm. "I found that I'm a bit handicapped in that regard, Son. How soon do you think I can get a replacement for this? You know, the others all recently malfunctioned and I had them replaced with the newest technology available, but was ... uh... _recalled_before I could convince them to replace this one also. Maybe that was just as well -- it would have been a waste of time, technology and credits!"

"Sorry, Dad. I was just so afraid for Leia's safetyBut we'll take care of it; my own needs a little maintenance anyway." He cast an amused glance at his father's head. "Glad you decided to deep-six the hairpiece; it really looked a bit silly . Your own hair is a bit sparse, but it's fine. Maybe you could look into hair implants; they are pretty good...Are you ready? Because I have a suggestion..."

Anakin liked the symbolism -- the 'Vader suit' with mask and helmet would be a suitable stand-in for Vader on the funeral pyre. Solemnly, Luke lit the kindling and together they watched it bum. As fire consumed 'the suit' and the mask and helmet turned to smoke and ashes he felt for the first time that Darth Vader was truly gone and that he _was_ once more fully Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight. If only Padmé ...

When the last embers had burned out, the Skywalker men joined Luke's friends for the Rebellion's riotous celebrations.

At Luke and Anakin's appearance, Leia flew to hug her brother, with Han close behind. The joyful reunion lasted several minutes, while Anakin looked on in envy -- the ties among these young people were close ones. Beginning to feel forgotten, Anakin cleared his throat to attract his son's attention.

Luke remembered his manners. Keeping an arm across Leia's shoulders, he turned to his father. "Leia, Han, this is Anakin Skywalker -- Leia, he's our father."

Leia's welcoming smile vanished. "You... you're... you can't be... _you're_ Darth Vader?" She spat out the despised name. "Luke?" She whirled to face her brother. "Is this some kind of sick joke? You brought him here? The Sith lord? Has he gotten to you, turned you into another such as he, a walking pit of evil and corruption?"

Her brother tried to smooth things over. "Leia, calm down. Vader is gone, along with the Emperor. Leia, you know me. Would I put you or any of my friends in danger? Besides," he suddenly grinned and gestured to Anakin, "Wicket likes him!"

They a11looked to see the young Ewok hugging one leg of the embarrassed man. Anakin awkwardly patted Wicket's head while Han and Luke hooted in laughter. Even Leia faintly smiled, although she quickly recovered.

"Fickle Ewok!" laughed Han. "And here I thought that I was his favorite human!" He peered more closely at Anakin. "Say! aren't those _my_ clothes you're wearing, Skywalker? Luke, old buddy, could I have a word with you?"

"Come on, Han, I would have asked, but you and Leia were, um.. too involved in playing 'kissee face' to notice me. So I borrowed the clothes and left. We'll get some new ones for you, if that's the problem, but Dad won't hurt them -- it's not like he's dirty or anything!" Luke was becoming upset, his frustration at the situation rising.

"No, he's just a filthy Sith lord!" Leia hissed. She spat out a few choice epithets, to the astonishment of Han, and to Luke's reluctant amusement. Atiakin felt that it was time to speak for himself.

"Leia, don't start. I know that you can go on for hours without repeating yourself, but I would much prefer to be deprived of still another chance to experience your extensive knowledge of obscenities and curses."

She sputtered to a stop, and stared at him as the realization dawned on her that _this_ man had already heard most of her vocabulary, including some things that she blushed to recall. She stood there, her mouth open, as he continued.

"Whether you like it or not, you are biologically my daughter. I may have been a 'filthy Sith lord' but I do not condone such language! I _do_ have ethics and standards. You shame your mother's memory. She was a lady who always knew the proper behavior, whatever her situation. And your foster parents, the Organas, were her friends and colleagues -- _none_ of them would have condoned your unrestrained filthy mouth. So Daughter -- mind your tongue, before someone decides to wash your mouth out with soap!"

Leia could only stare at him, in openmouthed, speechless fury. Han and Luke hid their grins, watching the father-daughter confrontation. Leia seemed to have finally met her match. And Anakin had never even raised his voice!

A golden protocol droid approached, breaking the tension. He was accompanied by a bleeping and trilling astromech droid. "If I may interrupt, my noisy little companion here keeps repeating 'It's Anakin! It's Anakin!' and insists that he must greet him. I'm so confused! He says that we once belonged to him, which is very strange, because I can't seem to recall..."

"Hello, Threepio. That's all right, a memory wipe or two will do that to you." Anakin then turned his attention to the astromecli, listening intently a moment. "Yes, Artoo, I'm very glad to see you, also, and no, I didn't realize that it was you I fired at. I'm sorry. So you are accompanying my son now as his astromech..."

The little droid booped and beeped, trilled and whistled; Anakin nodded as if in understanding. "He says," translated Threepio for the benefit of all, "that if it is all right with you now, Master Anakin, he would prefer to stay with Master Luke."

"Of course it is," agreed Anakin. "But what about you, Threepio? I suppose that you belong to Leia now?" At the droid's assent, he laughed. "I knew it! I've lost both of my droids to my children. Oh, well, I suppose that they need you more than I do..."

In a snippy voice, Leia said, "Well, I certainly don't want a droid that actually belongs to you...!"

"Oh, come off it, Leia, you're just mad because he lectured you for cursing at him, You know that Threepio has been yours ever since we've known you!" Luke's was a quiet voice of reason.

"Besides," added Anakin, "I gave Threepio to your mother as a wedding gift. She obviously wanted Leia to have him."

"Oh, thank the Maker! It's settled." said Threepio, provoking laughter from Anakin.

"You _are_ thanking your maker, Threepio; I built you, I'm 'the Maker' -- I know you don't remember and it is better that you don't; I wish that I didn't remember most of it!"

The little family party was then joined by several of the other Rebels and conversation became general. Anakin was welcomed and accepted simply as Luke's long-lost father; no one mentioned his former alter-ego -- it just didn't seem relevant to anyone except Leia. She nevertheless kept his former identity secret, although she remained aloof from him. He had to quietly endure many very bad and very scurrilous (but very funny) 'Vader and the Emperor' jokes, and laughed as loudly as anyone. In all, he had a wonderful time.

Anakin invited Luke to spend the night in the shuttle, holding out the bribe of hot showers. Laughing, Luke accepted, admitting that the lure of plenty of soap and hot water was a strong one. Sitting in comfortable seats in the shuttle's lounge area, Anakin offered Luke a taste of his dwindling supply of sulfurous Thraen water. His son's reaction to the taste was allhe could have wished -- Luke spat it out immediately, spluttering to rid himself of the foul taste, sending his father into gasping gales of laughter. Then he told Luke the story behind the water's presence on his shuttle.

Anakin suppressed a pang of sorrow at the memory of Vader's friend. In his own way, Wilhuff Tarkin had been as evil and twisted as Vader and Palpatine had been. But he had, usually, been a good friend to Vader, as good a friend as either knew how to be, as either would have sold out the other to Palpatine to save his own skin, had the need arisen. Anakin pushed the thoughts aside, and, in Jedi fashion, let go of the memories. He turned to his son.

"How about it, Son? Should we rule the Empire ourselves? We could do a damn sight better job than the bureaucrats have been doing!"

"Dad," protested Luke, "get serious! Leia and Mon Mothma are the politicians; let them get the New Republic off and running -- they'll know how to do it. I have a counter proposal for you -help me form a new Jedi Order, one without the restrictions that brought down the old one -- no ban on marriage, no isolation in a Temple, separated from the ordinary people. I have talked with Ben and Yoda and someone named Qui-Gon; they all agreed to help guide us. You are in a unique position, Dad -- you are the last of the old Jedi, but you can also be one of the first of the new."

In the air before them, Anakin saw the Force spirits of Yoda, Obi-Wan, and Qui-Gon, smiling at him. Yoda's voice echoed through his mind, he knew that Luke heard it as well:

_Come through your greatest trial, you have, Anakin Skywalker. Time, much time have you taken your destiny to reach. In that journey much you have suffered and much have you learned. Now indeed ready a Jedi Master to become you are. May the Force be with you, Master Anakin Skywalker. _The three figures faded, still smiling. Anakin looked at his son.

"Luke?"

With a broad grin, Luke answered, "Yes, Master Skywalker?"

"No, Luke, Master Anakin." The last person to call him 'Master Skywalker' had died with a quick flash of a lightsaber wielded by Vader; he could never again be comfortable with being 'Master Skywalker' ; besides, there would soon be another Jedi Master in the Skywalker family, Luke's skills were nearly complete. A warm feeling swept through Anakin; he was at last a Jedi Master! He didn't really want to run the stupid Empire anyway; he hated official paperwork! Let someone else do it -- there would be candidates enough -- probably old Sate Pestage was already taking up the reins, with Ysanne Isard right at his heels, openly offering assistance while sabotaging the whole show behind the scenes -- that was ever her way, a true student of Palpatine's methods!

Anakin knew that he had never in the very beginning wanted that kind of power, anyway. He had just wanted to save Padme, to have his family, and to be a Jedi Master. Well, he had his family, albeit without his beloved wife, and he could now be a Jedi Master also.. He tried it out again in his mind: _Master Anakin Skywalker_. It sounded wonderful! He turned to Luke.

"Someone once told me that the Jedi are extinct, that their fire had gone out of the universe, Well, the fire _didn't_ go out, though it did burn pretty low, and now those embers are growing brighter. Okay, Luke. You have a deal. With Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan and Yoda to keep us on track, we can't fail!"


	18. Epilogue

Title: VADER'S QUEST CHRONICLES

Chapter Epilogue

Timeframe: Beginning between ROTS and ANH

Disclaimer: Star Wars is the property of George Lucas. No disrespect is intended with this story.

Notes: Thank you all for your patience!

* * *

"Dad, you're primping! You look fine. We're just going for drinks with Lando and his 'hot date' and then Han and Leia are joining us. No need for all this ---" He waved a hand around the room, indicating the clothing strewn everywhere. He didn't see the problem, as all his father's clothing looked pretty much the same, mostly black, something of a cross between Jedi Master and Han Solo. "Come, on. We'll be late. Here's your cloak. Remind me again why everything has to be black?" 

Anakin smiled. "It just does. You might call it mourning for the past, for family and friends long gone. I know Jedi aren't supposed to mourn, but I feel a need to honor their memories. Besides, I like black! And I am wearing a white shirt, aren't I?" He had liked the effect of the white shirt when he'd borrowed Han's wardrobe, back on the Forest Moon. Not for everyday, but for times like tonight…. He surveyed himself in the mirror. _Not bad, Skywalker; not bad at all for an _..._older_ _man. Wish Padmé could be here to see me_ _now..._He touched a forefinger to the thin dapper mustache he had cultivated and then smoothed his hair -- the implants hadn't taken but regeneration treatments seemed to be working well -- it was _hair_ and it was his own, not that silly hairpiece. Luke had assured him that the graying blond hair looked very mature and distinguished, but he still missed his long vanished luxuriant blond curls. Did he have the miniature respirator? Yes, there it was, just in case he needed it.

He swung the cloak about his shoulders and adjusted the hood. As he did so, his blue eyes met his son's amused ones in the mirror. "All right, Son. I'm ready. Let's go." His grin broadened as he caught Luke's thoughts:

_Please, before you change your clothes yet again!_

"Be mindful of your thoughts, Luke. Sometimes they're far too easy to read. Remember that there are many around who are strong with the Force, but are untrained in both use and courtesy."

He suddenly laughed, hearing himself paraphrasing Obi-Wan Kenobi's words to the young Padawan Anakin of long ago. He felt wonderful, like tonight would be memorable in some way. His first real night out, even if his 'date' was his son, it was a big first step.

He climbed into the air taxi beside Luke. They shared a dislike and distrust of public transport, but both were unfamiliar with the location of the club chosen by Lando as their meeting place.

"Leave it to Lando," Luke said with a laugh. "On Coruscant only a few short weeks and he already knows all the dives on planet and off. Plus he is accepted into all the respectable places, too. I _think_ that this is one of the respectable places..."

"It had better be," Anakin muttered, "if Han is bringing Leia there!"

"Now don't get all fatherly, Dad," Luke admonished. "Leia _is_ a grown woman, and Han is her fiancé. And," he added quietly, "she still tends to regard Bail Organa as her father -- he _did_ raise her!"

"I know, Son, and I do regret the necessity for that. He did an excellent job, and I wish that I could thank him!"

"His spirit knows, I'm sure, Dad." Luke's voice was quiet.

"Yes, of that I also am certain. On a lighter note, where did Lando meet this 'hot date' of his? She _is_ respectable?" He knew that, with Lando, anything was possible.

"Oh, yes, _very_ -- some sort of nobility or something. An older woman, very beautiful, he says. An acquaintance introduced them. Lando said she was becomingly reluctant to accept his invitation, but did so at the urging of friends. It seems she's a widow, been in deep seclusion, and like you, Dad, this is her first night out. Maybe she has a friend for you." He grinned and nudged Anakin in the ribs with an elbow.

His father smiled sadly, and shook his head. "I doubt it, Son. Your mother is irreplaceable in my heart. "

Luke just shook his head in exasperation. "I'm not asking you to replace her, Dad; just to have a little fun now and then!" He broke off as the air taxi stopped in front of a nightclub. Anakin and Luke stood staring at it a moment, then entered. They spotted Lando with no trouble, but he was alone.

"Hey Skywalker, Luke. See you found the place all right. M'lady is in the...ha-ha...1adies room; she'll be here in a minute. Sit down. How ya doin' Kid? Your dad here give you any trouble?"

Luke laughed. "No, Lando. We're both anxious to meet1his mysterious older woman of yours."

Anakin added, "I kind of like older women myself -- married one once, Luke and Leia's mother. Never quite got over her..." His voice trailed off to an embarrassed silence.

Lando abruptly stood as a petite brunette threaded her way across the room toward them. She was a slim and elegant lady, her hair delicately streaked with silver, "Here comes M'lady now!"

Anakin stared. Never quite got over her was right! Even Lando's date reminded him of his wife as he had often imagined her present appearance would be. He _really_ did have to get out more often...

"M'lady, these are my friends, the Skywalkers, Luke and his father, Anakin --" Lando broke off as she breathlessly gasped:

"Anakin? _Ani_?" Lando helplessly watched his date faint into the ready arms of Luke's father.

Unbelieving, Anakin cradled her tenderly in his arms. It _couldn't_ be -- but it apparently was. He heard Luke's crack of laughter, heard his son's amused voice apprising Lando of the obvious conclusion:

"Lando, my friend, I _think_ your 'hot date' has turned out to be my mother!"

* * *

She opened her eyes to see her Ani's blue eyes staring down at her. She _must_ be dreaming or imagining things. It couldn't be, could it? Anakin had become Darth Vader, a Sith lord, and _he_ was dead, wasn't he? They had all warned her that she would go insane from the loneliness if she remained so secluded; the Emperor and Vader were gone; it was finally _safe_ to go out, to make new friendsSo she had reluctantly consented to an evening out, accompanied by this nice young man. She _liked_ younger men -- her husband had been younger. But poor Lando just did not attract her -- he was charming and handsome enough, but he just didn't _click _with her... 

But _this_ man -- who was he really? He just _couldn't_ be Anakin, not _her_ Anakin, could he? There, she _knew_ it! -- they were laughing, it _was_ some horrid joke! Even the younger man, the boy, dressed as a _Jedi, _of all things, had a look that reminded her of her forever lost beloved husband. She opened her eyes again, stared up into those achingly familiar blue eyes that regarded her with such tenderness, as tears streamed down his face.

"Padmé ? My angel -- it can't be! _He_ told me that you were dead, that I had killed you in an angry rage!" Even the voice was his, a bit more raspy, more mature, but his beloved voice...

"Ani? You've grown... older."

He smiled. "And so have you... even more beautiful, I mean..."

With an unsteady laugh she completed the sentence with his long ago words -- "for a Senator, you mean?"

A shaky laugh escaped him as he caught her up into a fierce embrace. _Force_! _Will I ever get over the awkward embarrassment of_ _that moment all those _years _ago? _"No, my angel. Just more beautiful! I never forgot you; you have been in my thoughts and my dreams for all these years. But... how can this be? _He_ insisted that I had killed you! How? This is you, isn't it, Padmé ? Not some horrible clone programmed to torment and punish me for my years as a Sith lord?"

"No, Anakin, I _am_ Padme Naberrie Skywalker, Lady Amidala, who never stopped loving her husband, although he had been seduced by a lust for power. I _knew_ that my beloved Ani still existed somewhere within the evil shroud cast by the Dark Side. I do so love you still!"

Anakin bent to kiss his wife for the first time in a quarter of a century. As their lips met, he ignored the ragged applause from tables around them. _What do_ _they think this is _-- _the evening's floor show? _Then he forgot all else as the kiss deepened and he began drowning in the blissfully remembered sensations of his wife's lips on his, her body against his, her arms embracing him...

With a gentle, but embarrassed cough, Luke interrupted. "Uh, Dad? Would you, um like to introduce me to my mother? And Han and Leia just came in; you'll have to introduce them, too." He raised a hand to attract the attention of the couple who had just entered the club.

Anakin reluctantly broke off kissing Padmé , but retained his tight embrace of her. He never wanted to ever again let go of her. Whatever he had done to deserve this he didn't know and really didn't care. He just prayed that it wasn't one of those dreams of Padmé that had become increasingly easier to remember upon waking, even as their erotic nature had intensified.

"Don't wake me," he whispered to her. "If this is a dream, I never want to wake up!"

She smiled up into his eyes. "If you are dreaming, then so am I! I do so love you, deeply, truly love you!"

He couldn't help himself; he kissed her again. At that very moment, no one existed but the two of them. Anakin wanted to carry Padmé off to some private place -- preferably with a very large bed--and show her exactly how much he had missed her. And from her reactions, she was of the same mind! But their son's increasingly embarrassed voice recalled him to his senses.

"Um-uh...Dad? I know that you have missed her, but, well... uh, Mother? I'm Luke, your son. And Leia here is my twin sister. We're both happy to finally make your acquaintance."

Recalled to herself, and mindful of her manners, Padmé hastily stopped the pleasurable activity of kissing her husband. She blushed, then reached out and clasped Leia's hand.

"Of course, you're my daughter! I would have known you anywhere! I was so afraid that you had perished with Alderaan, and was so thankful when I learned otherwise. You see, I knew all about you two and your activities with the Rebellion, even if I couldn't contact you -- it was safer for all of us if I didn't" Anakin winced and dropped a tender kiss onto the top of his wife's head. Padmé smiled from one of her children to the other. Joyous tears threatened to overcome her.

Anakin drew her back into his arms. "Don't cry, Padmé , beloved. You know that I can't stand to see you cry!" There were too many bad memories wrapped in his wife's tears.

"It's all right, Ani," she replied. "These are tears of joy. I never thought to have my family together. And now I do!" She included Han with a warm smile. "And you are Lando's friend Han. I suppose you are about to become a part of my family, too? And," with an amused glance at Leia's blushes, "not just by courtesy, either. Have you set a wedding date?"

Still blushing, Leia shook her head. "No, not yet; we haven't really discussed it that much, beyond knowing that we will marry one day. I am so very happy to finally get to meet you. Your husband ... Father... " She glanced at Anakin with a tight expression on her face -- at least she hadn't called him a 'filthy Sith lord' tonight! -- "talks about you -- a lot. You two certainly crammed a lot into the very short time that you had together."

Anakin kept an arm around Padmé as he turned to Lando with a grin. "I do seem to have appropriated your date, Calrissian. But we are still legally married, so I hope you can forgive me...Though truth told," he added, "I don't really care! My angel," he again turned his attention to Padmé , "would you care to join me for some... uh... intimate reminiscing?"

She laughed joyously, that laugh he loved and had never thought to hear again. "Of course, my love." With a gracious smile, she told Lando. "I have had a lovely evening, Lando, dear. Thank you. We'll see you all tomorrow! Or," with a mischievous look up into Anakin's eyes that sent tingles of anticipation through him, "maybe the day after. Well, one day soon anyway. Goodnight, everyone."

Reunited at last, Anakin and Padmé left to become intimately reacquainted. Vader's quest truly had ended at last.

The End


End file.
